For now not then-ever I, in the past, where I make my wax candles Last, for now, and the steam runs still at the point of ten Quills — yes, my fingertips and speed-typing know-how with a plowed pornstar taking things too far, so near, my on-screen dear of a dreary dream,, when it seems, I have to be clean, of the mess, after viewing a “Mistress” POV on an unsavory site, every single night, but for once and a while, when I crawl in bed, needing “head” in my crazed cranium hoping for “Ersatz Fucking” like fish in a lake, with a hook, and the innocence of a girl, I never took, it, from the headboard to the floor, I implore this “Score” with a stripper whore, I would adore, but for her unsavory slutting up the exit-only backdoor hole, when the whores of the world and powerful women take the repitual discomfort of a rock in a tight space, a hard place, my place, my Apartment when I meant to see the selling of Polo cologne smelling, with me telling, to the assistant MASSIVE, her track marks on each arm, they’re attacking her appearance, all leaned over, in the loins and the groins of Lady Licorice with her tongue being the one sole-spot of the ploy-plot of a Playboy Plan of Bruce Fenton and Stan, taking The Stand by S. the King who is bought to win in the book binder at Grammy’s holding thick and thin the apple of Eve’s uneven eggs has been chewed with mouthful slushing of puppies born of preggers bitches in cinches, take them for walks, and just one bark, to talk, so say what you mean to the screen with keys (and lunatics) being Depressed, as 8,000 troops are deployed, this after Trump who can let out a burp of purple soda the grapes, the green ones like limes with Corona but not the viruses known as the “Omnicron” wearing a crown, sitting it in jewelry cleaner, and my maid’s name is Sandy, a little too heavy, and although she cleans my rim, what is within, comes out in the bowl, as my excrement is often sludgy liquid being evacuated by the Owls, home on branches, chains of a bank called eating Brunches without throwing punches to the cooks who deal (meth) with higher temperatures, the Temptresses, in the kitchen, just a smidgen so SMILE WIDE, and bark when you Park your European cars — The U.S. Dollar — con-quered — by Bitcoin —  I HAVE BITCOINS MAKING ME MILLIONS OF FUN, THE FUNDS… for me and my Honey with beaten Maria Carey, I care, to never hit a girl in her pussy-hub, as I flub up a sincere apology to all of these jerks who spy on me, here, where I live, and on my 3 dot-com’s, Rook takes the Pawns but only 1 with a move as the cow says “Moo” in rural Charlton, MA, I’m not there, where my parents are, to my dismay on the on-screen display when Xi Jong Ping pines for an excuse to ruse these rude foreigners and with Nukes, I took, I stole the missiles from Ukrainain bases, making faces, hyper-sonic missiles almost make it to Space-s with Space-X being developed by my friend online in 2005 named “Elon Musk” to husk his fruitfully fantastic organic-corn from the fields, without beers, Sober the me, and drinking swill my enemies will, and to end their lives prematurely, what have we?  A fun funeral for me, of Davey, the failure, now in Death, he had 2 babies with different girls, and he was the worst in the world, to have kids a la the Welfare payments, of gentle gents working their business at companies in this country, The C Word, I be, not saying that to anyone or uttering “C”-words alone,, there’s a catastrophic tone to my words, working here now, to take us away from Naughty Words, I swear, I’m clean all over and my language of English, you Serbian “lushes” eating rice for lunch with maybe your goats’ milk, a Hijab of Silk, slinks the objectual metal coil down the stair-way, staring as the Slinky makes its JOURNEY!

Pumping you full of Led Zeppelin’s famous “Stairway”: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8pPvNqOb6RA