Songun

FIRST BEFORE SAUCE WAS THE WERDLE

Of course (or a matter of laps being made around horses),
Who sleep in the backfields wishing not to become
Thoroughbreds, but rather fixed staples in the
Chinese diet – since dying is easier than trying to win
In a race you cannot imagine

Of course that happens.

It’s a balanced cycle of deliverance and denial. one sows
What one cannot slide between the plate of life
And dreams of dying.

One man said “no more brands again”

A brand name prevents people from saying things..like
“My favorite is the one that smells like paste and
Has spots where crumbs would hang, and that otherwise
Tastes like it should, minus the apostrophe”

We are always what we imagine ourselves to be, but
Never at the right time (start the clocks)
The sequence of self-identity and time is faulted by
The human condition’s inability to focus

We choke on fists!
We drag our socks!

The whole world swims in the See

The blue eyes are staring at oceans which reflect the sky
The water is clear as broken white windows
The sky is learning about earth just as the night is
Sawing through time

I squeeze these emotion for all they are worth,
Then I dump in a tin can and start again.
No soup for me!
No gas for you!
That’s what it read
….I didn’t read it!
…I DID NOT read it!
But I have a feeling it said that indeed
And who knows??
Too many birthdays!

Scratch that!
Ham and damn eggs
More dogs!
More long long dogs!
I’ll smash those candles
Hello, pinch my name
Kiss my song!

I’m caught in a cog
Let’s dream!

torn dead halitosis
resentful efficient rage
crisp kakidrosis regret
negative-revengeful delude
mocked breezy vafrous sapphism

Exquisite totality, appealing to the colorful fantasy, brimming with a fair destructive compliment of the creamy active chic makes us a famous fair trophy.