Author: Otto S. Fishbein

I keep my hands dirty, my mind clean. Got a new agenda with a new dream. I’m kicking out the old regime: Liberation, elevation, education — America, you a lie.

The virginal brides file past his tomb, strewn with time’s dead flowers. Bereft in deathly bloom; alone in a darkened room? The count.

From a cold clod cut in a deep zone, a sunken ship with the ghost on…They put my seat in there, Sunday Comics under the chair hot, tucked in a dope spot, so the chrome tire screech every time we hit.

It’s just that I want to say that I live a life in a day. I didn’t have to wait till I was lonely old and gray, I simply read the Sunday Comics for a direction!

Saturday Morning Breakfast Cereal– Zach Weinersmith Ampersand – Barry Deutsch       Schemantics – Michael Yu Khartoon! – Khalid Albaih Context Jesus…

My optic presentation sizzles the retina; how far must I go to gain respect? Um, well, it’s kind of simple, just remain your own and you’ll read the Sunday Comics enjoyed on the throne.

I need my conscience to keep watch over me – to protect me from myself – so I can wear honesty like a crown on my head when I read all of the Sunday Comics.

A: Is your Sunday Comics? Would you like us to assign someone to Comics your Sunday? Excuse me…
B: What?

No shame in my game ’cause I’ll always be the same — styles upon styles upon Sunday’s what I have.
You wanna diss the Comics, but you still don’t know the half. I sport New Balance sneakers to avoid a narrow path, messin’ round with this you catch the sizin’ of ’em. I never half step ’cause I’m not a half stepper; drink a lot of soda so they call me Dr. Pepper.