Don’t Mosh My Melon
By Michael Sheldon
Like a body roughly shoved along a mosh pit
My melon bounces up against 3 a.m. heavy metal
Gets flattened by a mathematical equation
Bruised by robotic droning
Pummeled by myopic rigidity
Almost making a chowda head
Until I escape to my own deflector shield
The quiet written word
More fun to watch the celestial bodies explode into each other
And let me chillax
To feel the super deluxe day
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