Prose Poems

SHELF LIFE-PROSE POEM

11Liquored up and quiet as a lawyered up Saturday night suspect… When some Sunday morning radio reformer is giving witness to the ways of the Devil..including/ the product placement possibilities of a public renunciation of my sins…Damn—

Who is the patron saint of marketing I mutter then made instantly sober with white lighting realization my particular and growing demographic has a never dying interest in the shelf life of simony.

Published by r.Douglas

I’m spry yet retired. I reside in the inner city of a major metropolitan area of the United States. I read politics. I watch baseball. I hum along with the tune. I June swoon, and moon the bad poem. Post here, are old and new. Opinions are my very own, except when wrong.

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