THE EXTINCTION OF THE DINOSAURS

without excitation of the fork in the ice age,

a lot of samples of condensation

lie coiled within the pizza's

special zone,

but a comet decapitated

passers-by, their foreheads'

atlases shallowed

the first caveman brothel had a

cutout imitation

of a fire; geometric patterns

tilted so your brain ended up suffering

bunker parallax,

dirt-spit in your eye

abruptly, in the stone cold room,

a masked Mr. Potato Head

hologram: 'I am the ninja clitoris!'

the metrosexual dinosaurs' adhesive-filled

foot baths blamed for their extinction –

why else had

so many fossils been found

within arm's reach of fruit,

sirloin steaks, tubs of caviar, ice-cream –

as if glued to the floor?

but a time-traveler had seen it

in their public spaces:

not a diffusion of

bone-less winds, rather

an upskirt zoo-

powered,

cosmogonic 
cube - groomed until raw

so something else must have killed them