Monday, November 28, 2011


A quiet buffet – yet a
complicated hollow.
Scene of the soon-to-happen robot uprising.

My SUV cauliflower hybrid.

I wanted the horror movie to contain a lot more wheelchairs –
was I asking for too much?

So remove my beak. I figure
that since I'm in this concentration camp – since
I'm here, in this condition – I'm ready
to bottle-feed.

Growing and settling horizontally – I'm good.
Settling into a neat parking lot of spooning hormones –


let us now try to telepathically restore sanity. A new,
9mm Satan splurging on comfort; Dolce & Cabbana PEZ dispenser
slackly in hand.

Traces shapes. The shapes hiccups can manipulate one's wiener in the sand.
Coke dandruffing the Milky Way. A quiver triggered
in the old-man jowls of the centipede.

No comments:

Post a Comment

Search This Blog