Themselves Grass Skirt & Fruit Hat
i've been here, sat between railings with god named
celeste for, look adam to establish yourself won't
really burn off that fat or we'll call it fat, that
runs you near, archetypes that have been tested and
failed continully tested and failed, god named celeste
has always akin to catch stones at dead clock,
fortunetly she's beautiful in the corners of her eyes
and happy visible,"Good bye" she blinks while ruffage
falls from my skirt, my skirt ruffage falls from my
skirt,
dripping with face lost i've the frozen meats and
convention center specs to build a mirrored phallus
right here, 10 miles high, for everyone to imitate, but
the drawings in the dust are filling up with dust
again, and i've just spent that 100 dollars friends,
help though, hook line and sinker, if i could cry and
hug my cat all night i'll still be empty, or putting
change in the meter for and entire block of people i
know from bumps on a log, kite flying and chicken
choking and running in place, i'm stuffing mixed
messages in bottles and dropping them in gutters and
when someone gets it they'll be right where i was, and
maybe that'll help, so one day when the snake sucks
it's tail, i'll find a pot of gold and tons of letters
left for me in a matchbox and that would be idle like
grown men in tights, with fists, capes and eyebeams, I-
beams, i've been here, sat between poles with god name
sid for, look adam to reanimate yourself won't really
lop off that foot or we'll call it foot that carries
you off mezzanines that burst into situated right as
you left situated, tsk tsk god named sid has waited a
long long time to say "i told you so" so
consequentially he's eaten by a bear and happy
unfortunate goodbye he thinks as a tangelo falls from
my hat, shush i say to the drones of potato people
whistling my social security number, some mail man to
be named later must not be doing his job, i'm thinking
of when that nuclear thing happens and i'm the only one
left a ruin that doesn't look like the movies, it was
made before, between 7 breakfast, 12 lunch 6:30 dinner,
if i don't stack all these bones now and these feathers
right after that i'll pretend i'm sleeping and let them
talk to my listening, listening, tounges and forks and
noseplugs and problems are gears and i'm lamenting over
those two edges coming together in the blood blister i
got out of it all,
if i could be any animal which would i be? the human
soul because there's almost no halflife,
it's negligable and covered in pus with marrige on top,
from globs to shoulder width to back to the hospital it
don't stop
it's negligable and covered in pus with marrige on top,
from globs to shoulder width to back to the hospital it
don't stop
until the socially acceptable thing to do is be real...
