Hoping to me who I see thee and the ways of when it was better days, living next to WSU with their “Gymnasium” Ad Nauseam in a hot-air balloon—one belonging to China drifting about on the way of it crossing the country, while here in my “Apartment” (at Averte) I sing to the sway of what but a loud, “HEY CHINA YOU FUCKS!” of counterfeit fits and eating dead cats/bats/rats Rated with their failure to come up to my American “Standards” of big ol’ boobies when on the YouTube, I be- sitting sedentary sitting still, and stationary, seeing the window-sill and all of a sudden I feel ill—as per the Chinese food of Ma Huang’s staying while I didn’t eat the “Duck” here—last week and thrown away in the kitchen, praying for Ukraine’s gander ad nauseous nothing with Europe’s UK “Queen” Megan wearing a green, dress, and so dressed up Fancy and Fashionable—her able to be with a purely ivory white-boy, while girls play “coy” (unknowing) I learned at my University, at my desk, the girls flirting and breathing to breed with breast-implants as per my Wedding Gift—bigger tits!—when one comeuppance strips the pants (or dressed salad dressing on the Ranch in the Mid-west)—when I think of Lance and LIVESTRONG 2 yellow rubber bracelets on—I’m drifting dilly-dally with Sally’s thongs on her backside and floored footsteps wisely, them highest of the heels, when this way, I catch feels, a tug of the fishing lures lines be so kind as to reel up a guppy with MMJ “gummies” when “Marquis” sails and says, “I’M KING OF THE PAGE!” on your browser screen, my thoughts, yeah, there they’re all seen in splendor, sticking my left hand in a smoothie blender, but meandering upstairs and down, the stairs I throw my spilt split socks, for a wash—taking woopie shopper’s hours in their houses—A SHOWER, so show me the bowed down power at this late hour, now or never, I focus on my splendor, this while I never endeavor!