It's 2:52 and purple ***** are blue.

I was eating a T.V. dinner on the porch yesterday when a neighbor vomited on himself by accident in his car. I ran over to him to offer help. He told me that he was alright so I returned to my porch. Later, the neighbor's wife arrived home and commenced to ***** all over herself. Being inquisitive, I went to her. "I saw your husband puking all over himself earlier," I informed. "Yes," she said, while smearing puke everywhere. "It's our twenty-third wedding anniversary."

I bleed thick arterial blood profusely as fat lesbian medics leisurely
truck me to a big city V.D./A.I.D.S.-*****, public, quack hospital or
some place of some sort for some reason as old, devoted Christians
bring the pine Christmas trees in during the crucifixion of our Lord
Jesus season as it's seen that this ritual to Jehovah is 100%  pleasin'
Me love white Yankee conquerors with ****** B & ricin nerve gas
who ****** all my **** family long time ago in long-time-ago past
when it wasn't kooky to alphabetize ***** as **** A, B or **** E
Let us carry out & sally forth with de-icing an iced brake pump like
C.P.R. on ******, “Papa Adolf, for the love of Jesus God wake up!”
A warrior of 9 holy wars asks, “Who is the ****** with you fella?”
I don't know for certain but I think this *****-**** answers to Stella
as this wild Geechee ***** rat snake only babbles in coastal Gullah
These doughnuts ain't fresh! How do you know? I tasted them. And
these kitty turds ain't fresh either! How do you know that? Shut up!
Half a doughnut in to my doughnut experiment I am puking chunks
like a twinky modeling ***-pink ****** for Hungarian hunky hunks
who sail *****-ships in reverse, payin' sailors like winos pay punks
After Friday's Catholic fish-fry with our ******* dry we pray to God
a lot, to force Staples to honor the idiotic warranties that we bought
Truly, because only our richly-blue Heaven's God-on-high has ultra-
holy Biblical God's godly-god power, I seeketh graves to desecrate,
infidels to hang, virgins to de-flower, **** to fling off Eiffel's tower
The miracle of Glen Campbell? Each time I play a song by Glen Q.
Campbell my Chihuahua takes a ****. I wonder now, now that Glen
Q. Campbell has crapped out, will Chico be constipated a little bit?
5 bullets into John Lennon = big curtailment of public appearances,
hand-holding, bun-baking, Greek shipping-magnate disappearances
Hello Isabelle, my neighbor's uncle used to go to the island of Cebu
to fight in the style of Kung Fu to whip his **' ******* black & blue
To be alone & dead is sad but no sadder than a few other dead ends
that entail crappin' out among ***** who'd ripped you off as friends

☕  Positivity can't exist without negativity.

Eggs roll off tables, I've noticed. Chickens feel more at home when they're not on vacation.

What of the wild disco nights & days of my exuberant youth that I still recall with arrhythmical fondness?

I stand amongst a crowd of strangers
Each feeling their identity is in danger
Laughing loudly but only when you do too
So many things that I want to do
But only if you do them too
I try to recoup my eccentricity yet it stays unaided
Every gesture well calculated
Never questioned never debated
Lacking what once was mine and only mine
Today I stand jaded, lost to time
Comforting myself by calling it all a part of the design

I stand amongst a crowd of strangers
Each woman wanting to change her
Widening waist size engulfing my poise
And my mind losing control over those petty boys
I’m told to love myself and rejoice
OH!  What a marvel is this thing called me
Yet I think of me as a fruit of some poisonous tree
It’s like a flea stuck on me
Funny how my arch nemesis
Is me, and how my inhibition’s genesis
Was me, yet I couldn’t keep it off my premises


I stand amongst a crowd of strangers
I call them my friends and my neighbors
We stay together and laugh each day
But in between all the laughs our thoughts run astray
Going places and times I prefer not to say
We stay so entwined in our thoughts, so confined
that how unnatural it is to find
It’s not just me who loses her mind
And yet every day I meet, sit and greet
Hoping one day someone understands my need
My need for the same two hands, same two feet.

I'll undress myself, undress all my coats,
undress all my fears, strip to my sheer.
I'll show you but will you want to see ?
what will your thoughts be to my naked, unadorned alive,
will you look around or will you hold your gaze,
as layer by layer i unfold myself,
strip myself down to my bare, undrunk skin,
will you still call me poetry as i take you on a tour of my anatomy,
will you explore all my fissures or stay gauging at the first shortfall,
will you understand the traces of my wounds,
the wounds not from battlefields but from gentle smudges of
unfinished love,
each covered with bandage, not healing just concealing,
trying to stop the pain from bleeding, covering my corpse in aches,
and so i keep my gaurd up, no strolling on passion boulevards,
for torment and agony were never printed on invitation cards,
but when the time comes and you compel me to,
i'll let my inner demons out for you,
and as i strip down to my sheer,
i wonder, will you peer or look away,
will your thoughts run astray,
will you love the bone and flesh just as much as,
you loved the carapace.