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Gas

Six short poems made into songs.

Six extrmely short poems developed around a single theme. Each poem was also used by Suno-AI to create an original song.

Gas

A very short poem.

For Appaloosa Radio.

Another pink tablet

To stop the gas gurgling

In my gastric tract.

Knowing that as Andromeda Galaxy

Twists toward ours.

Our two gases

Will mingle

To make new stars.

Still, yet.

Another pink tablet

To stop the gas gurgling

In my gastric tract.

Gaslighting

A very short poem.

For Appaloosa Radio.

Gaslighting.

Fill the room with foul’d vapors.

So undoubtedly untrue.

So unbelievably untrue.

So impossible.

So improbable.

Stink and smell

Pollute and lie.

Make you believe that what

You distinctly remember

Was not so.

Never happened.

No siree!

Fragmentary figment of the fragile and frail.

Crazed consciousness uncoupled and incomplete.

So undoubtedly untrue.

So unbelievably untrue.

So impossible.

So improbable.

Fill the room with foul’d vapors

Gaslighting —

Making you believe that what

You distinctly remember

Was not so.

Was not so.

Video

Gas’d Up

A very short poem.

For Appaloosa Radio.

Dad would crank the Ford

Drove to Mr. Frank’s station

For gas.

To gas up.

Fill the tank.

Before the 47 miles

To Baker, Illinois

Where Mom had her kin.

Gas’d up, he’d always say.

So, we’re on our way

For a most happy Thanksgivin’.

 

Gas’d up, he’d always say.

So, we’re on our way

Poison Gas

A very short poem.

For Appaloosa Radio.

Poison wafts with the breeze,

Going wherever it might please.

 

Yellow gas.

Bitter gas.

Choking gas.

Choking!

Breath.

Choking.

Each breath.

All breath.

Yellow gas.

Bitter gas.

 

Going wherever it might please.

Poison wafts with the gentle breeze.

Singing softly, verses of perfidy —

In the hush of twilight’s final breath, I weave a lullaby of death.

Whispers curl like smoke in the air, their shadows dance with silent despair.

From this sweetly tainted bloom, rises the perfume of doom.

 

A silent scream in the manmade fog.

A final breath —

As poison wafts with the breeze.