Sunday, July 31, 2011

TO THE MANY JANITORS THAT HAVE STARRED IN SCOOBY-DOO

to the ions undergoing Walmart's brutal rite of passage – robot vegetarianism is often the right swab

but have your salivary glands be very beer-thoughtful

you will emerge tired, haggard – a traveler on the edge of a hairy stellar polyp grasping at objects – most notably the blue hopping subliminal vaguely Coke-a-Cola-like truck – knowing as certainly as you know anything:

Traveling by Tardis induces constipation.

in the mouth of the sacred cow, the harmonica's puffed-up neural circuits –
like any good outfit complementing a large tongue by spreading itself corrugated-thin – performing symbols almost as well as Rorschach origami – like the Batman logo sallow-weeping

Scooby-Doo puzzled by your average fistfucker; the mystery framework at all times faithfully adhered to – it's astonishing how the locks they'd pick they'd pick with suction cups

skull of Yoda, a trough of impenetrable meaning nestled in its prognathous jaw – the glow in the dark immune system sliming up the cave's walls Shaggy's puzzling over, now, asking – while the janitor grins behind his mask:

How sensitive must sushi be before it starts vibrating? How obscene?”

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