This Totally Tubular Thinker Touts Taylor Swift

(distilled from the playlist crucible quite some time ago,

but happened upon just today).

(powerful piquant punchy pheromone
producing playlist, plumbs psyche,
prestidigitation pricks paparazzi phalanx,
prompting peculiar poetic paean, parsing
piecemeal perky, praising pronounceable
puckish packed performances, presenting
physically pleasing, powerful pipes
predicating personal prevailing preference).

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Thee Mademoiselle found,

or made a place in the world for yourself

aching like a boy out in left field

pining to catch that high fly

there there ain't nothing 'bout you,

 

(nor Brooks and Dunn) I can attest

even if hypothetically,

we spent eons at an all night diner

where culinary staff knew thee all too well

and perhaps all you wanted

(shared with Michelle Branch)

 

perhaps positing the rhetorical question –

am I ready for love?

With an American boy

or a bosom best buddy

 

re: best friend forever with an American girl

if someone got cross, tis beneficial

(in this one republic) to apologize

regardless, whom ye choose as a confidante,

 

the following refrain plays in your mind

baby don't you break my heart slow

(at least according to Vonda Shepard)

memories no doubt arise,

 

when thee hapt to be a baby girl

thoughts unspool back to December

beautiful eyes peered at a fractured reflection

before the love story

would begin again,

while ebbing, and flowing with my baby

recalling Bette David eye

(taking visual delight sans world tour live)

reminding self how better off

the choice made tis much better than revenge

but umpteen times bother I will

asper boys and love

combustible mix – nonetheless

always reminding myself to breathe

deep, cuz being breathless

 

likened to a taste of death,

(I admit better than Ezra)

learning how to act points back

asper being brought up that way

lessons oft learned getting bustedng

 

oh...and by the way can I go with you?

Can you feel the love tonight?

Discern ache kin to sand castles crumbling?

such granular, or solid state matter

doth forced to change

 

attested to by chaperone dads,

who dressed as Santa Claus invoked

that Christmas must be something more

especially, Christmases,

when you were mine

 

ah...closest to a cowboy

as “sigh” ever got

or tasting Gunstock rattlesnake pulverized,

yet countenance goose

(and found you under the care of Chet Atkins

at the make believe medical center)

shivered flesh against cold as you

though desiring thee to come back...he here

no doubt prone

 

to announce crazier requests asked

even crazier

(as demonstrated

by flash mob generated

by Hannah Montana, one live wire)

 

if able to glean my sentiments...

cross my heart

aware as an adult feeling the life source of daddy

or mommy, while hinting

with a stone temple piloted cold stare

 

double dare you to move

(or switch foot), one to another

das feet – planted within pitch dark blue Tennessee

dwelling with thoughts

of ma dear Digdan

or writing an imaginary letter starting...”dear John”

 

ample melancholy maudlin material

to complete bind a diary of me

yes concert cavorting circumstances

avoidable, though didn't they

make chase like butterflies,

and don't they hate me for loving you?

 

so please don't tell me you want to,

when I don't want to anymore

argh, yet impossibly unshakable

the recurring thought don't you

act indiscriminately

 

as when down came the rain,

washed the spy dir out

following suit (wet)

drenching yea...one drama queen

with chin amen along pearl harbor drive

(in conjunction with Alan Jackson)

 

presaging Jiving drops of Jupiter

(train chugging, clacking, clattering

railing gestalt of alien nation)

and all of a sudden like how odd though...

 

thinking about eighth grade graduate,

when lifetime seemed enchanted

now everything has changed

eyes open (“hunger games”)

 

maketh me – fall back on you

instant messaging you –

fall into me fearless,

 

though only fifteen

and how against pyrotechnics,

you find your way back home

on the fourth of July

 

perhaps led by a zeppelin sized firefly

ah, I ask myself who is the foolish one?

 

Me for you forever & always (a platinum edition)

for girl at home (donned in deluxe edition)

 

going bananas

in reference to Amazing Gracie

swaggering, and immune to gun powder & lead,

(whose leading lady Miranda Lambert)

whatsapp penned left her looking haunted

heartbreaker – (my words – like Tom Petty)

 

about her, but unsure if our thoughts aligned

anyway, here you go again (Dolly Parton)

a hero heroine

so...I clamor to yell out “hey soul sister”

and hey Stephen

 

along the boulevard of broken dreams,

this ribbon highway don't care

about trumpeting his lies

nor desecrating holy ground

honey baby, yes ye in the mom jeans,

 

I feel hopelessly devoted to you

(as doth Olivia Newton)

instinctively keen how to save a life

bobbing buoyantly amidst the fray.