Creamy dreams of the newfound pleasure in the microprocessor “Tech World” I say no way and instead buzz off your crew-cut hairstyle, but only for a while, or longer, sipping the, instead, BLENDED STEAK in the blender, that I suppose toward my Withdrawing from Calculus I at WSU, I suppose I went on a short-term “Bender” of flexing my hips, sea-side taking dips, but mostly in a hot Tub of sudsy HJ loving with a long-term sexual “partners” eating pizza once a week — that’s which is one time too many — me dreaming of Mannie did she get a divorce from “Nick” wearing maybe a hot pair of Red Bottoms or “Nike’s” for athletic shoe-shine FLOO SHY on the pair of SHOE FLIES! To tan on the beach with blondes and NO NUCLEAR PROCLAMATION of “Proliferation” for the weight-lifter, waiting for the “Bus” of my trust in the system of Public Transportation, Peter S. soon with a Jehovah’s Witness “proclamation” with one hunny-bun for former forms of “Fun in the Sun” on a Sunday… sipping skin’s sun-shine with NO WINE for my wise mother, Mom, singing that song, “I crashed my car into a bridge I love it, I love it!” Played in regularity on KISS108FM far back, to attack the Chinese spying on the U to the S of the A. ` ` ` in love with my “AMERICAN GREATNESS” shining bright, cheery Mom- her now motivated to the motion of abstaining from worn-white Tube socks, when the clock ticks- my “Charlton Hicks” farmland Mom and Dad — they are not glad when I stay up late, with a nap on my couch, timber to the crotchet work of a seemingly seminal memorial for the Seamstress knitting nothing but, instead, stitching fabrics…
That I have many “Stitches” in my body and left hip — the 64 mph crash will do that — now my belly a little bit bountiful to mount the Maintaining “mountains” come Everest — me ever so daily brushing with Crest toothpaste to click CTRL-V saving time when I could be jotting not notes but my method of writing swifty prose on a professional string of websites, that I would always love how my Mom burst joyous singing to that song of, a long time ago, when she knows, she’s not too old — the elderly folks awaiting to RUB A RABBIT’S EARS, them dear for my John Deere stocks, I’ve profited, with them, and from them and so many other Stocks and “crypto-captains” of some vacationary sipping more Morgan’s running along the esplanade, me never seeing “Escalades” by Caddy, I am at odds with my Dad, my Daddy, foreseeing a future of blunt His “Orders” to crawl into my Queenie Bed, I choose to Snooze on the alarmed readers who dislike me poking their high levels of stomach-fat, you fatties, Lisa’s ass is unpleasant, so frumpy, lose the cellulite with an order of injectable protein-peptides, in your thought to shoot left-and-right thigh-bones, it ordered and delivered to your home — “protein-peptides” like GHRP-6 and IGF-1 LR3 are sold all across this my NET, to have 3 dot-COM’s I write in quick and thick bursts of a burp at the bar yet not of my own, this SOBRIETY 2016 is me in the “Zone” — me spending my money on not a snake named “Monty” — that what happened to the order of my $150 “Mont Blanc” pen, that my crusty parents canceled my orders once again, that I feel fine enough to unleash the Amphigory eye-liner with a ZERO ALCOHOL POLAND SPRING — when my DEAREST MOTHER SINGS, again, this song I will look up the YouTube video that made her so elated driving and arriving on time: https://music.youtube.com/watch?v=QMzkaOY0bKA