BE A

DEAD BABY

Incubator of disposable baby parts.

Dead fibers' perturbing contraction.

Graphic zoom smokes out nasal passages.

Spoon with puffer fish.

Burp the drapes.

Copy and paste pancake-extract.

The mechanics of flicking my ear with its tongue.

Pharmacological caveman.

Experimental biology stirring on the sofa.

Encapsulation of gore drinking out of.

NIGHT NOISES

Between her Nokia and universe-sized

epiphany lies an ear-full of interference.

An emergent tick stuck in the brains of a clock.

Countless hours of Dungeons & Dragons

and you learn that sometimes

it's good to subject your snail to the following –

what's full of what's normally not seen boiling in coffins:

the rainbow in the midget's hair

or a stream of Mars rot.

A dried cup-o noodles for antlers to get shrubbed in.

A shadowy grin hopping around on the chupacabra's face,

its bunny suit psychosis hungry for frogs

peddled from a small-town trunk.

Night noises trapped in a ninja's towel.

ELF YOURSELF

The hiss of windmills

is integral to the landscape –

radiation from an ancient pinball disaster.

The blackhearted orange

wrung from something squishy.

When nature calls, Kleenex

configures itself into an optical illusion.

Buying a Mars Bar and knitting its peel;

members of one shady fringe will

pour the dead tissue into a dumpster...

Elf Yourself sweatpants

the casserole wears as sacred aura.

We all stood watching aghast – as the

action figure flung glowing poop.

SUPERMAN'S HANDWRITING IS UNREADABLE

I loved the Tooth Fairy even after learning

it was in the habit of clothing itself in goatse.

I could see even after geysers of human nature

dimmed the toilet. My face suddenly erupted in

LED whiskers – and I could sort through the immense

paper work even while transmuting into an invertebrate weed;

one with the wrong sort of mental health.

Something has gone to my head. I

shouldn't have eaten all those hot hairspray glands.

I was drawn with dabs from Godzilla's fingerprint palette.

During some sneaky interlude, I must've devolved into a giant

sperm plug carried by winged fungi high up

into the air and dropped down onto a rapist's head.

Good: let all his thoughts turn into fat non-categories.

With corpse-hinge seeking Kinect edification.

Sawing through Band Aid wearable

confetti that turns the aquarium

milky. Flees seeking treatment for depression in hysterectomies.

Superman writing incoherent obituaries

in the childish hand of the millions of unborn.

IMAX

Her bones completed by

more variables of pins,

a body parts spectrogram

and a motivational sticker.

An electronic knob's

cheap tone bled

by the dominatrix's pulley.

Lego gears putting the seam in break

dancing. A drop-of-blood-resuscitated

alien. Exposes the lurk in the vigilante –

either the visual cortex's clown mask sewage snorkeling;

or clubfoot make-upping.

The sentient bathroom

mirror dialed. Bizarre requests

to search engine. Listen if you

have a shy bladder you're gonna

need what's called a “pee buddy” -

I so happen to know an excellent therapist

who rents out blind/wall-eyed ponies.

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?”