Rear End a bumper, that’s a thump to a her, a female driver being SOBER and yet distracted by what the “actions” were to be upset and riddle the junkie pulling out an Ace—her eyes, her face, with what masterpiece her face is, knowing her succulent lips are in the right places, North and SoCo that’s the lingo of a floozy timepiece politely pleasing her wrist, to be kissed, and so it is Wish-Wish getting laundry and sultry on a Friday night what delighted candles, and her online handles, treated like a tike- training wheels on her pink shimmery 1300cc super-bike speeding and greedily passing through the lanes, marked with sharp… re-flexing her glutes, doing Squats gym-side and treadmill time of stride after stride, stretched like a itchy stringy thing—but not what you think, when she cares and so wears her hairs absent—so WAXXED—watch what happens with our MAGA aghast, choppers and chompers being harassed when walking so swift, on the nightly boulevard, that is, if you catch my drift—in the snow—so cycling is a no-no when it’s cold outside, slipping on rubber wheels, in summer Planted—the Keebler Elves of caliber point well who knows?
Fudge it, push the translucent glowing throttle, that, hey “Do you remember those shugary energy drinks?”
Full Throttle—to buy some? You really aught to, invoking the Vocational Vocabulary of a one-armed “Shop Class” teacher, telling students to be prudent and precise when they slice that wood up nice and 9 ways solid—Concrete… Got it?
A crow cackles out the window, when a crowbar is employed under a mischievous man with maybe hemmed dress-pants on, being worn, and when sworn into Microsoft Oh I suffice with no hair lice—that I am chilled by the icicle, calling a circle 360 when what would have been, should have been it aught to be Ira 360 esteemed with added density, should I be talking about Jimmy Cassidy? having been a roommate at a failed University, skipping classes but hmm call it very politely? Who knows, EAT AT JOE’S for the sloppiest of beef, being grass-fed cattle, get back in the saddle staying still so as not to sway—or “shiver me timbers”—Pink Timbs I wrote about recently, Publishing golden gold ever-then silently, turning down the 2-lips with my injured skull’s “cranium” I don’t even think about what a Twinkie for dessert that is filled with the ooey-gooey white C.R.E.A.M. when “Cash Rules Everything Around Me” when I hope to soon order 1 banknote that is with $2 in value, the two-dollar bill, I salute you and you and you—but not you the reader, that is, if—and only if—you have no seeds in The Bird Feeder, out back with sirloin steak simmering grill-side, the chef’s (Jeff’s) remarks “tricky” + “snide” on the wayside of when I wonder, what publication I may sweetly seek, as soon as in a week? I’m too weak to be again Published, like in my “Le Mirage” article made it to The Student Voice on-campus news-paper when in winter you have to use the ice scraper, Ludwig, and wings on a tree—shy by nature—not bcoz I really, truly miss chatting with John Coz of ECM Plastics, Inc. where him and my Dad, similar $$,$$$,$$$ holdings—Hold On for Dear Life!—to HODL crypto-currency a canvas my parents returned!
She sells seashells by the boneyard!
My kitchen in my “Averte” apartment!
I sit pretty and sit don’t I sit pretty, only fairly, still sitting back and drinking Seltzer for a liquid 0 calorie snack!