Chewing on an old computer hard drive
the maestro's teeth indirectly manipulate his bowel movement's
memory foam into the shape of a duck. Knowing that when it
morphs, Nutella provides the gloomiest of thrills.
An optical illusion of the hotel's impending implosion
made possible by the folded spaces between
acupunctures on the fake luggage in the lobby.
The elephant in your silence grandly twitches its ears – ears
wired to Nowhere's three densest gravitational loci.
Combining to form a chicken in the drywall: both real and imagined.
After wearily climbing off his gurney, the patient saw it
covered in meatless dots. In heavy silence.
Wonder what happens to the loose change in the pockets of mall Zombies.
One looks like it has a booger duct-taped to a leak.
The back-alley acupuncturist says he loves 'doing' fake luggage.
Deals directly with the symptom of said luggage not being able
to 'move their hollow states.' Some really empty people, for example,
require a special apparatus with a special built-in sack.
Darth Vader's gifts on Christmas are all really amazing; they are
all stuffers of the hollow states of amputees such as himself.
How he meditates on stopping the seizure from crawling –
with the sound of a pencil sharpening – down his
favorite pig roast. In the next room someone's routinely
measuring a stormtrooper's Ph.