Dragged to Ink-Sliggers

We had to write a poem using random words that a few kids, foaming at the mouth, shouted out. And this is what the frightened little art major did:

The Marine, wasted-
Onomatopoeia, onomatopoeia
He lain there,
Butterscotch dropping from the ceiling.
Drip Drip Drip, onomatopoeia
Piling and piling up, like stalagmites
Drip drip drop, piling.
At dawn he stirred, feet buried thickly in butterscotch.
The morning light cast the room in a purple glow
Blinking, stretching, onomatopoeia,
Realizing, sticking to the floor.
Crawling and groping in the dim light
His hand found a handle.
Weight in his shoulders, he pulled the squeegee blade through.
Scrape, scrape, glide, onomatopoeia
Grunting, heaving, with the will of a Rhinoceros,
Supercharging, forcing through as culture had told him
No use. shh-wipe. onomatopoeia
Futile, the life of a platypus,
Onomatopoeia




This is what i drew to go with it.


Words and I, have a secret, trying relationship.