Grippo King, philosopher, and artist.
Downright to the marrow, he’s the arrow through the heartless.
Sunlight in the afternoon, his shadow travels furthest.
Woven through the heart of doom, he’s bursting through the surface.
Hardly nervous, suffice to say, he understands his purpose: Threshold King of everything, a comical absurdist.
Sometimes when he talks he sings, yet keeps his high notes wordless.
Downright to the marrow, he’s the arrow through the heartless.
Sunlight in the afternoon, his shadow travels furthest.
Woven through the heart of doom, he’s bursting through the surface.
Hardly nervous, suffice to say, he understands his purpose: Threshold King of everything, a comical absurdist.
Sometimes when he talks he sings, yet keeps his high notes wordless.
by Toussaint May 26, 2008