Junk Poetry Ten: Number 10 Downy Fluff Street

Photo credit: Jeremy Brooks / Foter / CC BY-NC

Junk poetry, a poetic representation of robotic verse. Do you ever think about all the information floating out there, the swamp of words and arrangements that float like garbage in the ocean? Now picture bots and algorithms sailing the sea of the internet, plucking and picking up those glinting deposits, polishing them and stacking them to send to you secretly. Now picture me, stalking through the junkyards of unwanted emails, pulling out the scripts with these hidden gems and putting them here for your perusal. Read on, and hopefully you can see what I see: a new purpose for old things.

Disclaimer: Always make sure to dispose of your junk email responsibly

“Good job, off her chair,

Okay?”, let his mouth dropped the room.

Will want Maddie, they had Madison.

“Hang on with him,” he sighed.

Past the other, things she could,

Until now was too soon.

Words, she called back her voice.

Everyone else he was, right now – Terry.

Jacoby said nothing but “if

The couch, while Madison wished Terry.

Carol asked you, but for him? Over.

Terry helped Maddie, and started to calm.

Kind of its mind, that.

Normal people had said nothing more.

Past the other, things she could,

Until now was too soon.

Words, she called back her voice.

Everyone else he was, right now – Terry.

Jacoby said nothing but “if Izzy…

Snyder to have me, you should.”

Abby, to keep up, she nodded.

John nodded to anyone else.

Groaning, Terry folded her eyes.

“Two men, are they? Did his life.”

Since Terry looked away, to face

Jacoby, said “they made Madison.”

Closing the triplets, to print out over.

Especially not leaving, you should say anything

Looked so, what had enough time?

Does this. Would be helped, her shoulder

Okay. Terry with no idea what.

Terry rubbed his feet away,

Izzy looked out all right.

Especially, not yet to leave

While Abby sighed and folded her mind.

“Come to hard time, Terry.”

Dad, and waited as soon for lunch.

Brian asked me what to answer, that

Feet away from the window.

Found out. All those eyes.

Clock in with everything, that

Dick looked on our house.

Ruthie said she fought for Ricky.

(Another way you have sex with.)

Where are too much about?

Brian to print out the hallway,

Lauren moved past them away.

“Will you there, to kiss her head,

Besides the seat on your call?”

Unable to try, as they and

Uncle Terry nodded and moved past them.

“Help, Terry!” started for coming back.

Have sex, Terry even though

Light from under her hands.

Was right thing in silence?

Stan called her shoulder and watch –

Jacoby said nothing like this.

“Because of its way down, Terry.”

Well, down her staring at Izzy.

Especially, not leaving you ready.

Kind smile though.

Snyder had already know yet to turn,

Emily sighed and folded her eyes.

Snyder had sex, but then…

“Girls!” Sat up your uncle Terry.

Jacoby said to give you have.

Debbie asked, “Coming up, Maddie?”

Hugging herself as her breath, away.

Stan handed the passenger seat,

Neither had taken care of what.

Please, God was saying that,

“Later” and the words she loved him over.

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About Neil

Neil Rochford is a writer from Ireland and has lived in various places around the world. He loves fiction where bad things happen, is trying to feed himself with his words and he is available for freelance writing gigs and wakes. His book, The Blue Ridge Project, is available NOW on Amazon.