If I really want a selfdriving domicile vehicle,
like old Flattop in **** Tracy, I better be lieving

structs to compare, by my lieve, I am my own liege,

As intentional assistance, ripples through our hope
storm, as my grandchild, returns from school,
after having an absolutely great day, in 6th grade,

can you do that, unassisted, remember such a day,
ever?

Of course, when in the course of human events,
memberships worth in an arrangement, in facting
meta data for worth to value cross referencing
next, most assuredly, if you happen,
you might say I happened to think you would
find this whole thing good mind tightening,
we think at once something never heard of,
link think through thoughts fit in redeemed
seconds used to recall being 11 years old, and happy.

I always throw these really cool birthday parties
And I always invite a bunch of people
From Near and far
And have always made loads of effort into making it perfect;
The right venue, the correct menu,
For all the people old and new-
In whatever childish attempt to make myself feel like I am loved
To help myself to feel that I am loved,
But I can not recall the last time I had a birthday
Where I didn't wish that I wasn't born.

-fir.m

I romanticize humanity until what's left isn't even human.

I cook up fallacies about legal aliens and add a dash of cumin.

Your chef tosses salads in the pasta section of the grocery store.

Devil's just as confused, with a ***** and an apology at heaven's door.


You don't know, and no one cares where eggs go when they die.

Godzilla thinks of a car full of clowns like you would a sardine pie.

What happens when an elephant gets alzheimer's and loses keys?

Does the paradox consume an entire circus of trapeze-act-fleas?


I ruin birthday cakes by blowing off the frosting instead of the flames.

How I do that? Count backwards from backwards and say my names.

Bittersweet love anthems pollute the brains of conscientious dames.

Heavy metal doesn't pollute, it pacifies rage quitting from soul-******* games.


Out of the woodwork comes a limp ***** that would work,

Long hours only to find he'd pay millions for a Miley Cyrus twerk,

Which is worth about as much as an all-female circle ****,

Unless you add strap-ons, so strap in and lap up the knee-****-smirk.


It is unwise to handle scissors when one is being cutting-edge,

Because your accountants will dangle themselves off of a three-storey ledge,

When you cut up the ledgers and make light of, that is, burn, the evidence of pledge,

To the monkeys in your think-tank mailing feces to the upstart farmer's hedge.


Now I know you're sick of rhyming and of poems and of liver culling whisky,

But I must inform you of a pirate's missing eye, I've bought sight of something risky,

I implore that when this song and dance is done, you'll assuredly miss me,

Because I've told you everything about depravity, hence forth you must kiss me.


Beacons of hope shine much like cantankerous silver in the moonlight.

If you're a werewolf that will fill you with hope and with immeasurable fright.

One day the world will admit that I'm awesome and impoverished to boot,

Because when the song and dance is done, what's left is just an ounce of loot.

burning is
that world
that we were once
dreaming of