Comment:
The slip n' slide never got the credit it deserved. Those aerodynamics.  She takes off her leg shoves the marijuana in it.  I am writing a PHD on internet dating. i.e. I enjoy making poor decisions, sabotaging personal relationships & humiliating myself publicly. The things I cannot do without include capitalism pocket mirrors & an east coast therapist.   On a typical night I am blacked out spending time thinking about Iraq. Very apt in sparkling wine. Identify as an Atheist & laughing about it. Here for one-night-stands pen pals long lost sisters living in Germany. A graph to measure how loving compared to other women/men. Remember Timmy and his ER visit.  The slip n' slide giveth & taketh away.  Comment him new collections. He's kinkier. More mathematical. She re-attaches sees someone & is looking for a special lady friend. I spend a lot of time writing about world peace and pasta. When is it actually peace or pasta?  When it's hard in water all the ingredients are together.  You see my dilemma.  Message if you fit into the category of freakishly good-looking.  Insert absurd level of high education vs. income.  The first thing people notice about me is my large sombrero. That I feel safe wearing it. Even in the shower. Yes water pours out when I lean over.





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Wrong Prom, we remember jellyfish.
How they excrete
then eat from the same orifice, yet are a celestial
body usually visible as a small bright point of light
in rising night oceans.
We should never live like jellyfish.
 *
Paranoid Claws, between your eyes reminds of a reptilian brain whose character traits are cold-blood, the desire for top-down hierarchy, and obsession with ritual. Balanced by mortal portions of a brain, but not in full-blown reptiles, which manipulate this planet. A past is a right wing and future a left, connected or torn apart by the torso of a two-headed eagle.  Sorry, we have eaten the snake.
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Hey Exploit Routine Between Sun and Moon, who guards the switch? A Xanax before, maybe, just once. Often, we wear one man-shoe and one woman-shoe.  They talk, lifting romantic comedy dialogue.  As lambs disappear, a sonorous porn soundtrack wraps one lace around the other and ties a knot. We step in woman's shoes and stare at bare hands. Victory horns are not so satisfied.
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Hello.
If I do not wear a tuxedo every day the terrorists have won.
I would not want to lose you as a friend.
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Goodbye Derelict Twin, living in words, grid systems confound. After, while shopping at over-priced boutiques. I make cashiers gift wrap my purchases.  Even though they are all for myself. At home a martini party. Wrappers fly everywhere, there is so much love.
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You have a 50/50 chance of being.
In-line.

Look at that! Rows of ducks right of a horizon.
I am taking control of this body.

Want to text message later?
A mass, bent on filling a phone booth, desperate shot

Like conversations with pigeons.
A crane shot

Yagi antennas. Outer space. Obese
symmetry like

Boom.
This is not rocket science.

Stream control of arms. Geometry
between legs. Then a bubble.
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Moon, Called Light, whose favorite food is pie. Consider the sweetness and French mono-syllables in cakes.   All the windows shut, beams against vats.  Where have we left our brain?  pfffft.  Have we considered a proposal of the serious novel yet? An opera on a boat over the hill at the house of a man named light.

Constellations expire as mere patterns.  How's about shutting your pitch.  Naff, about the sun, a real boxer. King of Fungi, a delicate dish under a flag, movement on fathered spheres. A dated sphere of desserts.  How many dates set claim in pursuit of trees of air? Maggots branch into aspirated desserts. Excuse me light, while we have thoughts.  
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