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paste!
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You are the only fish in that polluted sea
We'll get our chance against
the malady of victorious yawns,
but for now, please settle next to me
on the morning bus ride to eastern Whipville—
it has excellent plumbing,
charming convicts, and the place will remind
you of a deep fried octopus.
If you will not accept my offer,
please, smell my balls.
I can guarantee that the coma of the levelheaded
cannot get to you with me.
In the middle of the day,
we can have lunch with my sea otter lawyer.
Have you ever seen a sea otter rise to the top?
He made it! The head of his fucking firm!
Yes, cupcake, we will have mad sex.
Then we’ll go to the beach
and dig traps for all the old people to fall into.
Ahh, these are our golden years!
We will float down the River of Non-Caloric Sap
and tell stories about our athleticism,
the beautiful genitalia of alligators,
of the angelic swan that turned into
a glass ampitheater behind your back.
And when it all settles into something like a melody,
in the middle of the night
I will pull a big brown fax machine from my ass,
just for you, my sugar pumpkin.
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