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total eclipse of the gokart if i lift my arms will you please try to follow? just turn, turn like i do, and don't open your mouth. oldness curls your bones into shapes that don't suit you and it's the same with your tongue. i don't want to hear a word from your tongue. god knows that mankind has found better uses for tongues than words, so keep your tongue shut and would you please turn? and not one of those knobbly old people turns that you're so prone to. i mean a real swashbuckling kind of don quixote turn, your hips swaying delightfully like windows shattering from the middle. the kind of turn that rises like steam from a virgin. like virginity from boiling water.total eclipse of the gokart by ~swingingman
precarious i guess your eyes look like they've been scalloped.precarious i guess by ~swingingman
keep it that way.
excuse me. hello. yes.
young posh goose-loving tightly-wound taciturn pallid nautically-inclined shiveringly pretentious husky existential lyrical jewish nifty pill-popping illegitimate underfed narrow-minded whimsically libidinous
t-bone steak
plural. i've been stashed upwards of a misplaced kickstand, thrown too hard over the fence. mothbitten, fastidious, kite-flying werewolves live that way. i wouldn't go say hi if i were you.
the north and south poles are tiding over finally at last,
and i think it's about time for polemic volleyball.
june is the perfect time
for a
extortion yesterday + tomorrow down the our cheeksextortion yesterday + tomorrow by ~swingingman
runway, will inflate
their elbows bent
into the shapes of
adorable animals found mostly
in wonderful places with strong, cushiony names like 'andora'
and 'carthage'.
truth be told,
after our fifth dinner as a couple our cheeks
your sister began to look will inflate
something like a pickup truck lying
almost casually
on its back.
and honestly, i would have been fine with that!
i would've!
but the thing is,
i don't want my children to be half-pickup truck.
the pinschers on your roof
r
don't lend your shit to elves store-bought, malleable sensitivity todon't lend your shit to elves by ~swingingman
an arm's length of stale avarice.
there's a magazine leaning against
everything i see.
drapes
made of grilled cheese.
there are whales drenched
in olive oil
hanging from the left man's lips.
they remind me of
thoughts.
i want to say some
words right now.
something pertinent.
i watch him watch his
sitcoms
every day and
the laugh tracks make me
feel like fucking an onion
Sta.sh
