Digested.Ingested, rejected from Vancouver.
Take cover.
Raining down on smart ass smarties.
Blue, green, yellow.
Hello!
My name is Sam, I am.
Green eyes and hamlets, in the middle of Winterpeg,
during a summer down porous, porcupine needles.
Sewing up the eye of pedophiles, in the back of the CIA’s entertainment unit it.
Lit it up, those fucker voting for the conservatively stupid.
Cupid was a virgin.
Poking me in the ass, with hearty laughter telling me it’s wrong to fuck,
truck load of lard.
That’s up right and hard,
yellow hats.
Oh there’s the cat in the yellow hat.
Liking her asinine ideas.
Transmitted to me through a solar powered cat toy,
boy did that tank.
Thank god I’m not paranoid.
Jesus the mental hemorrhoids caused by brain farts in a middle of
a roll of
toilet paper legal lies.
Stains in my underwear of human rights,
fights butt crack eating the G string of a political debate.
I think I need to purchase a new didlo.
Made from sustainable willow elf leaf letting the fantasy manifest uninfected
the one on my head is a bore.
Bed soars on the inside of my mental capacity to understand.
Life.
Why is it such a big deal to shoot rainbows with erect penises, with little red ridding hood at the helm of engorged bed head.
Little creamy sheep eating beef stake
escaping heaven.
Isn’t that what we all want?
A perfect font, full of bullshit?
A fuck sit down, and choi down on the latest fad.
Too bad, to fat, to salty, to creamy, just plain nothing.
interesting about you.
I’ll sue you for your contentment is an insult,
must you smile like that.
The hey “just laid” look.
Green envy, leeks grow from Texas oiled gasses.
My gawd this is crap.
There’s the fucking cat, in the hat, licking her ass, will speaking in tongues.
I found a bible in the middle of my vagina.
I had to ask, what was a bible doing in my vagina,
I must has sinned, shoved into a Bin Landin’s night mare of poets and artists,
thinking they can change the world with their hymns.
Humming WAR PIGS, I flip the waffles, lost in last night rendezvous.
What the hell where you, do I dare to care,
Naw.
I yawn.
With a silver ladel, I take the waffles to the quantum table.
Lost in the 3rd CG eye scoping out new ideas.
To explain my useless existence as a former relation to the animal, in the yellow hat, licking her ass and liking it.
Or is that the joke, I hope, these waffles are cooked
.
Vegan baking can be a bitch.
Stone in my craw, raw is worse.
I’ll end up in a hurst with some kind on parasite.
Oh wait, that was last weeks date,
I had at the dentist.
My fist in the face of comic book conventions.
Nice two dimensional bite n bites of informational orange powdered blue cheese
smelling genes,
in my blood stream.
Give me the right to fight, with celery, against Hillary in Iran.
Wanted to be president.
What the fuck for?
Waffles and blue berries with maple syrup.
Yup.
Going back to bed.
Groovy, man, just groovy!
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