The apartment hasn’t been cleaned for so long and has housed a depressive in it for the same length of time so that there is a glaze of slime-dirt on the floor, made of dried coffee, hot chocolate, maybe some **** or some spillage from a tube of steroid cream to treat an inflammation that never really goes.  The rate of ooze changes?.  Clean textiles are piled up on the floor, never having been folded, and mix here and there with *****: practical fatpants that make me look like a geologist and white-white cotton blankets that can be washed on HOT with lots of bleach that I purloined from some mentalhealthfacility.  The inbox is full of—is bristling with—remonstrances from Programs for the Nondoer—you haven’t filed, haven’t turnstiled, haven’t had your hologram chip assessed by central CENTRAL intelligence, what is wrong with you.  Upon stepping outside there is a beat during which I think maybe somewonder might swirl and buoy but no, just wethumid and *****, sidewalks cruddy and Haitians and quasi-Haitians muttering “taxitaxitaxi” in front of their Gypsy conveyances with their dubious certifications.  I should go for a ride in one, a dubious passenger for a dubious palanquin.  I tried the library but it was too hot and decrepit and too filled with Books For African-Americans, which always ****** me off; are only African-Americans going to read Wright or Douglass or Brooks?  Everyone is overrated, anyway, movies and theater and the moribund beat of commerce, and as the dangerous autos pass, sometimes not running you over, you can see morechange in the pockets of the shareholders of BeePee and Iacocca Coach-Wirx.  Any friendliness exhibited seems to contain an underovertone of  You’re Not Included Whiteboy White ****** Ghost *****, all archaic names I’ve been almost astounded to be called usually while balancing on tiptoe on some lurching, roaring dieselbus, grinding past off-off-off brand groceries that do a dubious business.  While making my police report I wink at a sevenyearold boy and I get a lustrous wink back butalas this is not enough to beat back those slurrycolored brainfazes.

Blame revolving issues on foreign and ruling entities
fall in love again and my friend again is my enemy
I am not the same as i was
before you severed me
Knowing that when push comes to shove
you wont remember me
Guess i cannot fill in this void
with someones pleasantries..
You really don't belong
inside my deepest thoughts
My feelings are still strong
i hate that..

Just one more amitriptyline
and then I'll be dead
at least from the neck up
a perfect slumber,
forever restful
a perfect slumber,
never stressful

See,
I know what it feels like
to be barely twenty-three
going on forty-six
walking over hot coals
sleeping on sticks

So I throw stones
to break bones
and creative havoc
to feel something else
something other than
this pain I've carried
for too, *******, long

With the weight of twelve bricks
on my head its
nigh on impossible
and it hurts my neck
to look to the future
in a positive light

Yeah,
we're all getting older
and yes, I know
that I'm still young
because I remind myself
of this all too often

See,
I'm surely too young to
feel this way and
I'm surely too numb to
see it another way

I don't see anything
I only feel everything
the good, the bad
and all the tragedy in-between
I never dreamed I'd know
what it feels like to be born
a bird with clipped wings

You are finally out of my hair,
No more feeling like crap because of you.
Two whole seasons of Football,
And your crafty ways of hurting people.

Why I ask you,
Why did you feel the need to hurt us?
I guess we must be inferior to you.
Is it your own insecurities as a player?
That makes you feel the need to judge our skill.

Not that it matters anymore,
I finally have the courage to fight back.
The season is over and I never stood up to you.
Not when you insulted me,
And not when you insulted my friends.

The funny thing is you were never very good,
Your cruddy kicks flew everywhere like a drunk bird.
Somehow people thought you were good,
Just because players would move out of your way.

It became hard to decipher between playing good or bad.
It was like you targeted me.
Picking off a few from the team,
The emotionally unstable ones maybe?
No just the ones you knew wouldn't fight back.
I guess you don't like confrontation.

Well Goodbye Phillipa,
It wasn't nice knowing you,
But thank-you for strengthening me,
Now I know if someone tries this again
I WILL FIGHT BACK.

I see couples holding hand in hand walking by me on the street
Hollowness fills my heart as it responds in it's beat.
Thinking of the void, inside of me, that would feel like when it was filled
I admire the vision of adoration in the couple's eyes
as they kiss and greet each other.
I remember the future and all of it's mystery
I hope that's me, like the couple in view , that is in my future that greets me.
Daydreams ease the pain as I pass by them.
Visions of me and the one that shall hold my heart.
How to start the path to my goal is the trick to study.
A beautiful me and that beautiful lady to share love and adoration
in my vison that seems a little dark and cruddy.
I remember how my spirit does shine and then I don't feel so empty.
For a big heart and a grand and deeply true spirit
shall draw love to me.
When the moment draws to be ripe....I shall get hit by Cupid's dart.
Then, all my love songs that I've sung to summon her, it will be then when the right partner
who shall here it.

Over the hill which was dusty and complete lay perfectly nothing.
It stood and it stood with its big cow lips.
Reluctant to say anything in a disappointing display with some of us elderly and expecting entertainment and come all this way I listened for exactly ten minutes, aggressively.
This entire situation had been recommended to me at a party at which she was drunk.
The hill at night was reluctant to purse its dust and listen aggressively to plaintive violoncello.
The spider-lady in the living room was reluctant to sleep with the shortish man but liked the way he spoke.
For exactly ten minutes no one was sure if various members of this post-rock band could be pinned down as anarchists.
So everything stood with its dusty cow lips, disappointed.
Stood and stood like nice white kids from Canada in a cruddy hall full of apparently random images, begging to be taken seriously.

Dj spinning the wheels of steel
Best lyrics I spill that send thrills
Picture perfect Picasso
Make my own moves like Carlito
Move dinero black don Vito
Keep suckas in check
So stay off my grande bicho
We turn culo into closed
Casket I'm.cold heartless *******
That's my persona
Smoke more yay then T Montana
Took a bite of the forbidden monzana
Tell these fools I don't bang
With panics only frantics
Childish antics make for required carcasses
I'm bark up the wrong trees
Rivalries I love em I'm.above em
Eight levels ahead with mad bread
Hotter than a baker
Brew up the hardest thymes
The lyrical barrister call me Mr
Big stuff Cuz my peace heavy d
Mid weight like hos who can shake
They **** looser than Jello
I'm a president never let me peoples go
Modern day pharaoh with a thorough
Of wisdoms hearts full of clay
Which means I'm cruddy no fears
Show ya real tears like when the shot gun
Enters ya body goin at 200 miles per second
I'm reluctant the only one to ever bless the mic when I recite don't try to fight
Only to meet ya fall and mobster even gall
After me butnnever touch my epitome
In the safe house with my spouse
Tucked in ya blouse
Homes!! Ya minstrel cycle leakin'
Which means ya close to shakin'
Hands with the grim reaper
Puff cabbage make the biggest clouds
Now ya resting lovely open casket
Awaiting to be covered with the shroud!!



I didn’t ask to be assaulted with words
When you knew all too well that there was more than 15 bottles in my system
And my feet couldn’t find a way to walk a straight line.
“You only say ‘I love you’ when you’re drunk.”
I forced my drooping eyelids open to look at you
And I wanted to laugh.
It was past 2am on a Friday and I was lying down on my threadbare sofa
Your hands pushing a bucket towards me because you know me

You know me too well.
You know that on Thursdays the commute home was faster and the jeep would drop me off by the bar a street down from my cruddy apartment.
You know that I like this denim jacket you have because it has a pizza stitched onto it.
You know that my wallet is practically begging me to stop at the third shot but my heart won’t have any of it.
You know that no matter what, I will dance to Pussycat Dolls whenever they come on, even if I’m in the most contaminated restroom to exist.

But you don’t know
Of the way my head screams over the pounding of the music whenever you say her name.
Of the words that get stuck in my throat every single time you close the door behind you.
Of the times I wanted to know what it was like to have you near me when I wake up.
Of how I wanted to sing the cheesiest songs to you in the karaoke room.
Of how I closed my eyes in the presence of the night stars when I could hear how happy you were.

Sometimes my mind wanders to the thought of your lips on mine and your hands on my spine
But I remember that you said that she tasted like a fallen heaven
And I remember that I must taste like the loneliness of rain

You know that I fill in the gaps of my life with paint splatters in the colors of the sea
You know that there are tunes I will remember even when I’ve long forgotten the words
You know how my smile barely ever reaches my eyes
You know who I am.
Who am I anyways?
The sober girl who knows
That the only time I can hold your hand
Is when I get drunk enough to say “I love you”

So I say it again and again and again.
Because now you will laugh it off and say I’m drunk
Because you will forget about it the next day
Because when I’m sober
I can look at you with clear eyes and know
That you only say “I love you” when I’m drunk.

Gynecology appeals to the rooting instinct and not just among pigs,
apartment-dwellers too crave the spotlight especially in cheap digs
A tree puts strength in its cambium membrane, seeds, bark & twigs
whilst outgrowing the imperilment of remaining grounded as sprigs
It was not long before the Rolling Stones were being paid for gigs,
in the day when greasy Guineas plugged sheenies & cultivated figs,
decades before sainted negroes thrived as reactionary brillos & nigs
when a schweinehund on par with Club of Rome's lard-*** Al Gore
was realistic enough to accept his natural vocation as a male *****
even though no Avon salve could rescue him from being still sore,
he collected for prostitutional services that there existed no bill for,
while at Sea World Shamu can't fit through a pinniped or seal door,
as whale flesh ain't no antidote for pill-heads on America's pill tour
Keep whacking the side of your head to hammer out doubt till sure
you become of religious piety while acting out a radio-active story
that destroys tumors and fecundity while rewarding war-won glory,
for critical menticide administered to each Margaret Thatcher Tory,
to render brains slack so that each id's reduced to a formless slurry,
and made denser & dumber than the dumb-*** mind of Ann Curry,
who sits around picking fleas off her pet rats calmly with no worry
like a pederast whose name is Marion but likes to be called Murray
because of thickset hair that was as curly as Bill Clinton's was furry
it made Hillary's perverse predilection into a ****-emergency hurry
as she faced extortion rackets entailing mucho homosexy potpourri
It's I.T.T., A.T. & T., F.P. & L. and A. & P. in lieu of slave-holder
In a demi-godly role of being everyplace looking over my shoulder
Like advice taken to heart by a ***** the tenth time you told her
On the occasion of the hundredth time that a ****** **** sold her
Put down that rifle and also that cup as there are doggedly two ratty
trees of wood: wood I stole & wood I shoplifted as doggy eats pup
Congratulations *******, you won the Nobel prize for shutting up
Move from a hovel & put down that shovel as there are 2 unkindly
kinds of wood: stolen & discounted as my rabid ***** eats her pup
****** Mary Jane Christmas to Quakers winning gifts for rutting up
Return my shovel and **** a guppy as there are 2 hunks of wood:
wood I stole & wood shoplifted as a dog ***** eats a hungry puppy
Cheers cancer-ridden surgeon, here's the Shaw prize for cutting up
The tall first wife, who was fleet of feet, was the easiest to book for
she preferred rat tail over bat wing and won as a dream to cook for
she hid herself very obviously therefore she wasn't hard to look for
her manifold athletic talents made her the leanest witch to hook for
Give me your hirsute/textile/hombre love you lovely hairy rag man,
with your pointy nose, unlimbered leg & warts from Larry Hagman
who from the horse's mountable side snuck up like an airy stag ram
Don't take what little's left via state Santa Christmas merry bag ban
Let's dress like women in debt at the oldest Chuck Berry drag stand
My happiness is easily seen in blood-letting cirques as corpuscular
while my rippling backwards frontage is of a physique so muscular
that it is known by fat aunt Joan as socked-in and highly avuncular
In icy Florida I pine for Klondike my favorite Alaskan lesbian lover
who, in our gay igloo, resembled that big oily ****** Danny Glover
whose **** buddy Mel Gibson made him half less pockless gaining
☹a little more of plenty above Kenai's northern-lit blinding darkness,
and punctuated by those empty promises of ****-driving starkness
that were dogged by monster sightings quite common to Loch Ness
where **** Welshmen smoke Scottish-spiced cigarillos smockless
Fear not as chronically-starved people are traditionally not so tough
so feed the hungry & while they are eating steal their bags and stuff
as unarmed Cymry won't do more than storm off in a Goidelic huff,
akin to a Tom Jones hissy fit of ***-wriggling dancing and gay fluff
This normal man wonders: How much public ******* is enough?
Pushing Fukushima scenarios beyond the point of a no-return bluff
and extraneous of a federal Continuity of Government powder puff
while parked on a decrepitly-reliable-ever-burgeoning-lard-*** duff
white men, like coal miners, mine mineable depths of Filipina ****
gynecologically like the average gynecology enthusiast off the cuff,
rejecting Bicol pathogenetic carpet chaw to dip Copenhagen *****,
a sprinkling 'tween lip & gum proves that no slanted ****'s too tuff
A trans-orbital lobotomy's necessitated when plants are root-bound,
Hello Addisonian crisis dysfunction when adrenal glands are found
insufficient when production of adrenaline is diagnosed as unsound
Mormons note the absent look of foremen in the Book of Mormon
and an absence of the Book of Mormon in the outlook of foremen
You hid it 'cause I can't find it every elsewhere a package for string
this catastrophe that threatens tragedy above the tryst below a fling
With cords knotted tightly around something tumorous I won't sing
It is the chlorine that cancels detergent in that electric washer thing
beneath cellar steps that David Niven's wife fell down while hiding
I lost her you found her, it's a dollar for riding plus a fee for finding
all broads blinded to inequity and to chick Nazis' unguided guiding
Oh Lord with such ease the slippery have slid into slipshod sliding!
The frailties of free men're exploited by N.S.A.'s jingoistic deriding
General Ike exposed the military-industrial-congressional complex
which strikes against the citizenry by venomous rattle snake reflex
faster than a dope-crazy Marilyn Monroe could reach for a Kleenex
thru curvatures in a third-dimensional, spatially-pornographic helix
that approximated the Mexi-milkers of actriz: la doña María Félix
rutting elephants in musth must respect advisory: kneel-harm-****,
to honor the moon-hoaxing memory of chronic liar Neil Armstrong
as obviously for **** Rosie O'Donnell her gay meal alarm's wrong
Johns familiarized themselves with Lillian Russell by buyin' ** Lil
as masochists meet masochistic needs with movies of Ryan O'Neal
Sadists satiate sadistic surges sharing sermons sold Séamus Ó Néill
& beheld-redemptive pleasures for patrons of free mass soul appeal
I'm nailed in my sub-par carpentry by all do-gooders of the nail ban
to the point where I'm willing to mail my big sister to the mail man
who's part & parcel of a mail-fraud plot & brother's can't-fail plan
Escaped & uncaught I will be no prison monkey's cell-mate-jail-fan
'Cause shorts clothe Richard Simmons' lard *** he has a pale can as
oil-from-rock Daniel's been given the pétrole epithet Ol' Shale Dan
Latino block & cinder create distortive Hispano-Américano rubble
'cause stirring up spics & greasy wetbacks invites N.C.L.R. trouble
Stand back anti-pope as I am about to burst your pederastic bubble!
Your egg-shell-thick pate's no match for a black jack as this club'll
smash its way thru cardinals, reverends, ministers, priests & dukes
to make cream taste like ***** and turn cake into what a dog pukes
Under U.S./Euro socialism there'll be no guy who's a young codger
and popular forenames will be banned including Preston and Roger
Trans-national entities whip horse dung into curdled cottage cheese
while denying rescue inhalers to asthmatics enjoying a bad wheeze
so as to avail publicly purpled aureolae of ready women who tease
Now is the time to release the promised South American killer bees
as the hour's passed to exact vengeance for a beheaded Robert Lees
Mafiosos contract that Joseph Valachi-types be capped at the knees
then hanged by their what's-her-names from il duce poles and trees
in such a fashion that'll tighten the ropes by cough, belch or sneeze
Long legs, wrong eggs, strong pegs, King Kong begs with a song of kegs
Let us dog dealers of wieners & corporate schemers: those 2-bit reamers
extend a left leg into the sacred space of my right one for time remaining
It's easy to harp on topics commiserate with crap profitably entertaining
A man who courts dogs & a court manned by dogs quibbles over kibble
Dogs devoid of canine teeth are not as happy to gnaw and to nibble
The Arc of the Covenant bestowed ancient promises metaphysical
shedding cockroach-scattering illumination that set courses tragical
on a populace & citizenry that were more attuned to an era magical
Before Zionistic Elders prepared an Order within cabals strategical
Beneath plum sunsets & catchy maladies that deafened folks lyrical
“Turn me on dead man” the Beatles backwardly warbled mystically
as the means and the method to sexcite vampresses gynecologically
For all shoulder-locked movements sway men anthropomorphically
Let us seek bi-lesbians who fear concerted opposition diametrically
as their prized packages remain barren, as they spawn ineffectually
Sappho's ovarian host pouch is barren as ***** meld ineffectually
as Western, Fallopian-tubed freakazoids are ****-probed habitually
Sapphic ovarian balloons shrink when hens ******* reciprocally
On Pearl Harbor Loch a false flag blackened Mister Moto's beacon
by shadowy, white manipulators under a U.S. sinister, proto-deacon
who, as a cousin-marrying-pipe-******* *******, emulated Lincoln,
the war-loving queer who went above & beyond his task to weaken
the will of sovereign states to sustain free-market economic health,
by exacting confiscatory taxes resulting in punishing capital wealth
The Beatles were creatures of M.K. Ultra's institution at Tavistock,
lost to a shocking future as shown by Alvin Toffler in Future Shock
whereas nothing can help us from taking an epidemiological knock
by Mao a la Trotsky, a la starvation wages via phony-baloney stock
in the image of Pol *** a la Lenin contrary to righteous John Locke
Our fused-egg brothers gestate together, flying as a migratory flock
dolled up in vestry wardrobe: papal bikini brassier, ******* & frock
awaiting George Orwell's 1984 English socialism known as Ingsoc
X number of years before Nancy Kwan wed ski champ Peter Pock,
& after Bob Ripley's Oriental/Occidental miscegenation ****** talk
as it was curlier than was Nimoy while he portrayed Vulcan Spock,
whose sweetness was unrehearsed, unrestrained & of a sickly mock
once taken, out of time as taken twice daily on any ol' broken clock
flesh stripped & exploited as the flightless relic of Earth's great auk
enjoying the laze of Sunday oblivious to extinct Darwinian schlock
as chastised love is Leonard Nimoy-pitiable with chastity-belt lock
Upon a Massachusettsian shore puritans purified Plymouth's Rock!
Forever amounts to nothing in betrayal of Heinlein's empathic grok
Back off quack as I'll **** the next 1 of you applying scalpel to ****
as a dad must regarding neo-Kantian, fatherless-**** Johann Bach
Deep in hell's bowels fricassees Jew Elizabeth/***-to-Death Taylor
who did every Joe Nobody from Captain Crunch to Norman Mailer
A harlot ***** was she from 10 niggerly toes to scary mulatto tone
as hellishly deep in Liz's brain was a splinter of hamster wish bone
& her ***-end was broad from fat foods Safeway to her would loan
Beneath her 3rd world-chiding heft Larry F's lawn chairs did groan
as this princess of whales never said no to hog jowls and corn pone
which made an interesting cut-out to novices of the porpoise prone
There won't be another Liz till Rockefeller perfects a Warner clone
with the aid of sewing machines to hem-stitch hems that need sewn
& a positronic brain stem to achieve mortality previously unknown
since Alex Bell pilfered **** inventor Antonio Meucci's telephone
Truth is light that Illuminists keep shadowed, darkened & unshown
for Hank & Phoebe Snow and Johnny Winter who would not atone
Thomas Edison stole or bought the patents to ingenious inventions
that he was more than happy to claim as his brilliant contributions
to the wealth & state of inquisitive Mankind's Earthen conventions,
also he took credit for Biblical allusions to immaculate conceptions
Which Bible books Tom Edison wrote no G.E. employee mentions
as stealing, purloining and commandeering were his 3 predilections
True historians know well charlatan Edison's dastardly elaborations
To pinch a hairy, chapped man is wrong as it puts him in more pain
For century-old Harry Chapman Pincher pinching made him insane
His unholy joy was to lay prone with mouth open to catch acid rain
& then hop into the commode to affect a toilet-related ankle sprain,
not too unlike Richard called **** & Jean who liked the name Jane
whose corpulence demands a piano coffin burial with crawler crane
Formaldehyde replaced 7 quarts of blood that went down a drain as
the proverb fits: when there's nothing to lose there's nothing to gain
Alan Ladd snuffed himself over a self-destructive hatred for Shane
and because Sue Carol preferred men of height Ladd couldn't attain
without elevator shoes & leading-lady actresses walking in ditches,
the love-life that humbles a netted shrimp into paralytic twitches as
Alan often got nothing from Brentwood ****** & witches because
****** pimps don't scrape **** off them Hollywood swanky *******
Tragically it's true that God's in the details & Satan's in the glitches
when Hippocratic Oath-denying doctors say don't bandage stitches,
it promotes infection needing treatment that add to a quack's riches
Apply no anti-bacterial salve unless your unbandaged wound itches
Amerika will be a Marxian paradise after we guillotine the snitches
harvest their organs, cremate & consign their ashes to crude niches
Give me, give me, give me, I can subsist not on a mere, single bean
Hey cheapo, get off your greasy ***, take me to Dairy Queen as my
**** is shaved, bra's padded & all kinks are relaxed by Afro Sheen
Western ***** are fattened for slaughter as sloped slants grow lean,
for lack of appendix, tonsils, adenoids, warts, piles, moles & spleen
Refugees flee what's so repressively dangerous that it's forever fled
The bloodied blood biz passes pathogens to bleeders bloodily bled
It is a dreadful situation that ****** folks find difficult not to dread
A gent is obliged to face conflict face first short of living in a shed,
plying the rough trade, rough-necking with ******* or playing dead
When my cruddy teeth are encrusted I brush the crud off with Crest
while working drainward with this golden cake of soap called Zest
Like a woman on public assistance I refuse to let my choppers rest
There was a time when talk of quiz was a precursor to an Iowa test
My basic skills are determinedly under-cutting my housewife guest
whose stems run north to her malignant tissue free mammae breast
In movies shooting orphans with high-powered rifles is done in jest
'cause in Amerika making ammunition is what wage-slaves do best
When I'm not utilizing forks for recreational after-meal dog-jabbin'
I am staking out hog farms for the planning of gainful hog-nabbin'
or making log-planing modifications on my pine-logged log cabin,
before crossing teamster picket lines for wage-earning job scabbin,'
I take pains to avoid being skinned in a Jimmy Hoffa mob stabbin'
A thousand Confucian truths drive my happy dreams to nightmares
as bi-****** pass out on Calexico-Mexicali-low-calorie light beers
I haven't the moxie to skate through hydrants of fate terminological
as those 78 crumb-bums behind T.V. “comedies” wax scatological
Ernie killed Chip & Robby to stamp his father a cipher biological
He hadn't room for women for production smacking gynecological
The last time he looked skyward his thoughts weren't cosmological
S.O.B. Ernest cursed routinely at arthritis diagnosed gerontological
He gives not a harlot's hello for innumerable faults anthropological
nor to lend his energies to scopes that abuse harmonics hormonical
as he stumblingly falls prey to meanderings sickishly trophological
Lord of Hostesses salvage carcass mine from insults cancrological
Redeem me in sudden form humanoid of activities pathogenetical
We mourn in Gettysburg's city as unrepentant lesbians on probation
Defying errors inflicted upon soldiers who forsook proper vocation
Anti-poping Argentine Francis as he's ****** to Satan's invocation
It remains the best course to abide by stellar laws of spatial rotation
Whether one's nationality is Romanian, Finnish, British or Croatian
Lost people will eat food outside their region &

Thick-muddy roads around some sick cruddy homes.
Drugs flowing in toe by toe.
Water’s running dry or poisoned,
Just waiting for the Vultures to show.
Institutionalized woes, seen in droves.
Internalized hatred making each other foe’s.
Systematic destruction killing everything we know.
But that’s the way it goes,
In the savage lands where people lose their very souls.
We in the savage lands, where things are running foul.
With some not realizing we never really got rid of the white cowl.
I don’t care what you have to say!
Things aren’t ok, ok, ok!
Don’t you see racism is still alive today?
Uh, education? What education?
After 100 years of attempted extermination.
Forcing their indoctrination, lock us up,
Incarceration.
Isolating us from the rest of the population,
What’s that called again?
Alienation!
With missing and murdered indigenous women.
Yet the police take so much longer in their investigations.
Confiscating children out they homes,
Calling it salvation.
It’s like a third world country out here man!
It’s like we living in Damnation!
But that’s just the way it goes,
This is the savage land, where people have lost their very souls.
We in the savage lands, where things are running foul.
With some not realizing we never got rid of the white cowl.
Yeah, so I don’t care what you have to say!
Things aren’t ok, ok, ok!
Don’t you see racism is still alive today?

Audrey's lips wrapped around his teeth like a wrist watch. Toby could feel her savage love so much. Audrey pulled her thighs into the naked hollows of his underarms. If this wasn't love he couldn't tell. How long they had wondered what closeness felt like. Audrey had to say: "My lover, I need to know the sexiness of your intimacy a lot." Toby answered, "Me too." That day Audrey became impregnated big time. Would anyone notice in 8 months? Toby might, especially if he ran into Audrey's pregnancy doctor.
   Audrey's uncle was visiting from New Mexico for a month. He was a kindly man whom Audrey liked. No monkey business with uncle Chuck. He was 100% normal. That's for sure. One morning when Audrey was rinsing her ****** uncle Chuck entered the kitchen. "What's up Audrey?" Chuck asked.
   "Just washin' my *******."
   "Big night?"
   "No, Uncle, just routine laundering."
   Their back-and-forth banter was casual.
   "Today, I've got 3 appointments," Chuck mused.
   "Hand to me my Kunta Kinte commemorative *****,"
Audrey instructed casually enough.
   "This one?" Chuck asked.
   "Yes, thanks," Audrey said as she relaxed her **** muscles.
   "Good-bye," Chuck said 30 seconds before he left.
   "Good-bye," Audrey replied 7 seconds before he left.

Chapter 2, Toby's gay link to the Mafia was about to be revealed. Toby wasn't gay, not even a little bit. He loved women a lot. Once when a gay man asked Toby to marry him, Toby didn't hesitate to say NO! and the gay man knew it. Deep respect warmed the gay community as word spread quickly. So when anyone says that Toby's gay ties to the Sicilian Cosa Nostra Mafia were homosexual they're wrong, Mafia-gabage-dumpster-dead-wrong!

Chapter 3, Uncle Chuck's hidden secret wasn't that he was normal, 100% so and everyone knew it. But uncle Chuck had a hidden secret that Audrey must not find out about or her life would be irreversibly changed and it could never be changed back again.

Chapter 4, Audrey took L.S.D. and had an awful flashback to 1999 about illegal drug use. She had been shacking up with a man who respected women a lot. He saw that she was L.S.D.-free and self-lessly offered to her L.S.D. for free. She accepted it and immediately felt that life was enhanced by Hospice care in the long run.

Chapter 5, "His lard *** brought him down. He fell to the floor, not to the ground" was what uncle Chucky wanted on his tombstone that marked the muddy grave where he would be buried dead. It didn't matter, the seepage. Lee Oswald was corrupted by it and no comrade cried for months because he was a stinking, cruddy, raunchy, Marxist, Leninist, ****** red ***** Russian spy.

A wet dog's fetchingly damp like Charles Sebastian Thomas Cabot
chasing after one oily, grimy, filthy, cruddy, covered-in-mud rabbit
that's comical like “Little Christ” Costello and Billy “Bud” Abbott
after dealing with William Blythe Clinton Rockefeller's stud habit

A wet dog's fetchingly damp like Charles Sebastian Thomas Cabot, chasing after 1 greasy, grimy, filthy, cruddy, covered-in-mud rabbit
that is comical like “Little Christ” Costello and Billy “Bud” Abbott
after thrillin' to big William Blythe Clinton Rockefeller's stud habit

There must be a grimy, non-theatrically saucy way to gratify, for 55 minutes, a woman sexually like Béla Lugosi did when he was alive working as a working worker bee in a working worker bee bee hive
Bill Clinton's trucking dad died because Billy Rockefeller was born
so that Arkansas bath houses hosting *** *** antics could film ****
Somehow my **** lard **** ain't getting no thinner on a 7-day daily
diet of ham hocks, pork rinds & chocolate-syrup sundaes for dinner
on the 7 steps to Zoubek's Memorial to the Victims of Communism
I shall show love for chewing chewy carrots with vegetarianism, or
I'll choose a chewy Cuban ****** chaos for chewin' chewy carrots
with Castro's 1959 call for a cruel & cruddy Marxian vegetarianism
that'd be Cuba's revolutionary means to spoil Haitian egalitarianism
for forgetful amnesiacs who can not recall unrecalled amnesia at all

There must be a grimy, non-theatrically saucy way to gratify, for 55
minutes, a woman sexually like Béla Lugosi did when he was alive
working as a working worker bee in a working worker bee bee hive
Bill Clinton's trucking dad died because Billy Rockefeller was born
so that Arkansas bath houses hosting *** *** antics could film ****
Somehow my **** lard **** ain't getting no thinner on a 7-day daily
diet of ham hocks, pork rinds & chocolate-syrup sundaes for dinner
on the 7 steps to Zoubek's Memorial to the Victims of Communism
I shall show love for chewing chewy carrots with vegetarianism, or
I'll choose a chewy Cuban ****** chaos for chewin' chewy carrots
with Castro's 1959 call for a cruel & cruddy Marxian vegetarianism
that'd be Cuba's revolutionary means to spoil Haitian egalitarianism
for forgetful amnesiacs who can not recall unrecalled amnesia at all

( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)
Here on 2 limbs hobbles a 110-year-old pervert, Kirk Douglas, who
fugged fugging Marilyn Monroe fugless like 1 Aussie **** Kug lass
***** it tightly, sweet, slutty ***** in a perch from the lowest mast
with the queer **** who kicked in your teeth after you back-sassed
a family ******, I meant therapist, 47 centuries ago in the recent past
whilst kaffirs sold for a displaced value & **** got 'em lynched fast
as slaves were replacement-ready when white girls got them gassed
as ******* were placed steady when pink-titted girls had 'em gassed
as slaves were replaced already 'cause **** broads got them gassed
'cause any way you mounted it the leg-breakers struck a broken cast
from short shards of a super speedway's superficial asphaltical blast
that bombed big red dog Clifford's **** ½ so big as the 1 before last
so as to cover civilized folks & render traditional gay queers aghast
at the sick **** rumblings of organized colon-clutterer Thomas Nast
& his merrie band of coolies & ne're-do-wells routinely out-classed
dead Charles W. Fairbanks, his nephropathy & deeds done ½-assed
in 1909 when Wales appeared, to ****** ***** on dope, tall & vast
& open to the dirt-bag raunchiest, slickest, iconoclastical iconoclast
whose morganatical marriage meant zero to Cymru lepers harassed
by what ****-****-licking/puking anti-popes did for embarrassment
in the Vatican's most x-pope steady, paederastically-cozy apartment
that was no-less bigger than the *******-******-ghetto compartment
where it was ebonically-taught what the worst navy-bean **** meant
after eating obese Santa's guts before the final Christmas card's sent
Tick them off, each one's deader than the other for keeps like butter
***-spread 'cross lower labial lips that spit, sprawl, sputter & stutter
in the gray-cancer corpse cream cheese of Laura & Isaac Perlmutter
living the lives of 439 felonious fugitives in pig-****-garbage clutter
I was tossin' large rocks at myself when a large rock struck my face
bashin' in my nose to make me look like I was from an inferior race
I was lucky to have my passport if questioned by whites just in case
I was throwin' rocks at myself when a big one struck me in my face
smashing my nose to make me look like I was from an inferior race
I held a new passport, if white officials wanted to see it, just in case
I was droppin' big rocks on myself when big rocks crushed my face
widenin' my Caucasoid nose like an ugly pig of an undesirable race
I needed a good passport, if white officers demanded it, just in case
I was killin' myself with boulders when 1 race-mixed my ***** race
bashin' in my nose to make me look like I had an inferior **** face
I possessed a valid passport, if white cops demanded it, just in case
flattening my nose to make me look as if I was from a Mongol race
I possessed a valid visa, if white pigs demanded 1, & a can of mace
because even with a **** nose I could flee Vietnam without a trace
with leprous tourists, spastically limping to an unknown someplace
far from the rigors of a religiously-generous-bombed-out home base
queerly accented in wool hung crêpe & whitework embroidery lace
that trails down downed trails florid in flower for a perfumed chase
over a broken crutch mountain to ******* cripples via bracing brace
that holds Big Bertha beyond Elton John's pacemaker's stodgy pace
as excitement builds when 2 ****-buddies present Elton with a vase
that allows Big Bertha to under-pace Elton John's pacemaker's pace
as excitement builds when a ****-buddy shoves up into Elton a vase

( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)
Give me your hirsute/textile/hombre love you lovely hairy rag man,
with your pointy nose, unlimbered leg & warts from Larry Hagman
who from the horse's mountable side snuck up like an airy stag ram
Don't take what little's left via state Santa Christmas merry bag ban
Let's dress like women in debt at the oldest Chuck Berry drag stand
My happiness is easily seen in blood-letting cirques as corpuscular
while my rippling backwards frontage is of a physique so muscular
that it is known by fat aunt Joan as socked-in and highly avuncular
In icy Florida I pine for Klondike my favorite Alaskan lesbian lover
who, in our gay igloo, resembled that big oily ****** Danny Glover

( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)
Refugees flee what's so repressively dangerous that it's forever fled
The bloodied blood biz passes pathogens to bleeders bloodily bled
It is a dreadful situation that ****** folks find difficult not to dread
A gent is obliged to face conflict face first short of living in a shed,
plying the rough trade, rough-necking with ******* or playing dead
When my cruddy teeth are encrusted I brush the crud off with Crest
while working drainward with this golden cake of soap called Zest
Like a woman on public assistance I refuse to let my choppers rest
There was a time when talk of quiz was a precursor to an Iowa test
My basic skills are determinedly under-cutting my housewife guest
whose stems run north to her malignant tissue free mammae breast
In movies shooting orphans with high-powered rifles is done in jest
'cause in Amerika making ammunition is what wage-slaves do best

Toby could feel her savage love so much. Audrey pulled her thighs into the naked hollows of his underarms. If this wasn't love he couldn't tell. How long they had wondered what closeness felt like. Audrey had to say: "My lover, I need to know the sexiness of your intimacy a lot." Toby answered, "Me too." That day Audrey became impregnated big time. Would anyone notice in 8 months? Toby might, especially if he ran into Audrey's pregnancy doctor.
   Audrey's uncle was visiting from New Mexico for a month. He was a kindly man whom Audrey liked. No monkey business with uncle Chuck. He was 100% normal. That's for sure. One morning when Audrey was rinsing her ****** uncle Chuck entered the kitchen. "What's up Audrey?" Chuck asked.
   "Just washin' my *******."
   "Big night?"
   "No, Uncle, just routine laundering."
   Their back-and-forth banter was casual.
   "Today, I've got 3 appointments," Chuck mused.
   "Hand to me my Kunta Kinte commemorative *****,"
Audrey instructed casually enough.
   "This one?" Chuck asked.
   "Yes, thanks," Audrey said as she relaxed her **** muscles.
   "Good-bye," Chuck said 30 seconds before he left.
   "Good-bye," Audrey replied 7 seconds before he left.

Chapter 2, Toby's gay link to the Mafia was about to be revealed. Toby wasn't gay, not even a little bit. He loved women a lot. Once when a gay man asked Toby to marry him, Toby didn't hesitate to say NO! and the gay man knew it. Deep respect warmed the gay community as word spread quickly. So when anyone says that Toby's gay ties to the Sicilian Cosa Nostra Mafia were homosexual they're wrong, Mafia-gabage-dumpster-dead-wrong!

Chapter 3, Uncle Chuck's hidden secret wasn't that he was normal, 100% so and everyone knew it. But uncle Chuck had a hidden secret that Audrey must not find out about or her life would be irreversibly changed and it could never be changed back again.

Chapter 4, Audrey took L.S.D. and had an awful flashback to 1999 about illegal drug use. She had been shacking up with a man who respected women a lot. He saw that she was L.S.D.-free and selflessly offered to her L.S.D. for free. She accepted it and immediately felt that life was enhanced by Hospice care in the long run.

Chapter 5, "His lard *** brought him down. He fell to the floor, not to the ground" was what uncle Chucky wanted on his tombstone that marked the muddy grave where he would be buried dead. It didn't matter, the seepage. Lee Oswald was corrupted by it and no comrade cried for months because he was a stinking, cruddy, raunchy, Marxist, Leninist, ****** red ***** Russian spy.

( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)
Refugees flee what's so repressively dangerous that it's forever fled
The bloodied blood biz passes pathogens to bleeders bloodily bled
It is a dreadful situation that ****** folks find difficult not to dread
A gent is obliged to face conflict face first short of living in a shed,
plying the rough trade, rough-necking with ******* or playing dead
When my cruddy teeth are encrusted I brush the crud off with Crest
while working drainward with this golden cake of soap called Zest
Like a woman on public assistance I refuse to let my choppers rest
There was a time when talk of quiz was a precursor to an Iowa test
My basic skills are determinedly under-cutting my housewife guest
whose stems run north to her malignant tissue free mammae breast
In movies shooting orphans with high-powered rifles is done in jest
'cause in Amerika making ammunition is what wage-slaves do best

Audrey's lips wrapped around his teeth like a wrist watch. Toby could feel her savage love so much. Audrey pulled her thighs into the naked hollows of his underarms. If this wasn't love he couldn't tell. How long they had wondered what closeness felt like. Audrey had to say: "My lover, I need to know the sexiness of your intimacy a lot." Toby answered, "Me too." That day Audrey became impregnated big time. Would anyone notice in 8 months? Toby might, especially if he ran into Audrey's pregnancy doctor.
   Audrey's uncle was visiting from New Mexico for a month. He was a kindly man whom Audrey liked. No monkey business with uncle Chuck. He was 100% normal. That's for sure. One morning when Audrey was rinsing her ****** uncle Chuck entered the kitchen. "What's up Audrey?" Chuck asked.
   "Just washin' my *******."
   "Big night?"
   "No, Uncle, just routine laundering."
   Their back-and-forth banter was casual.
   "Today, I've got 3 appointments," Chuck mused.
   "Hand to me my Kunta Kinte commemorative *****,"
Audrey instructed casually enough.
   "This one?" Chuck asked.
   "Yes, thanks," Audrey said as she relaxed her **** muscles.
   "Good-bye," Chuck said 30 seconds before he left.
   "Good-bye," Audrey replied 7 seconds before he left.

Chapter 2, Toby's gay link to the Mafia was about to be revealed. Toby wasn't gay, not even a little bit. He loved women a lot. Once when a gay man asked Toby to marry him, Toby didn't hesitate to say NO! and the gay man knew it. Deep respect warmed the gay community as word spread quickly. So when anyone says that Toby's gay ties to the Sicilian Cosa Nostra Mafia were homosexual they're wrong, Mafia-garbage-dumpster-dead-wrong!

Chapter 3, Uncle Chuck's hidden secret wasn't that he was normal, 100% so and everyone knew it. But uncle Chuck had a hidden secret that Audrey must not find out about or her life would be irreversibly changed and it could never be changed back again.

Chapter 4, Audrey took L.S.D. and had an awful flashback to 1999 about illegal drug use. She had been shacking up with a man who respected women a lot. He saw that she was L.S.D.-free and selflessly offered to her L.S.D. for free. She accepted it and immediately felt that life was enhanced by Hospice care in the long run.

Chapter 5, "His lard *** brought him down. He fell to the floor, not to the ground" was what uncle Chucky wanted on his tombstone that marked the muddy grave where he would be buried dead. It didn't matter, the seepage. Lee Oswald was corrupted by it and no comrade cried for months because he was a stinking, cruddy, raunchy, Marxist, Leninist, ****** red ***** Russian spy.

When my cruddy teeth are encrusted I brush the crud off with Crest
while working drainward with this golden cake of soap called Zest
Like a woman on public assistance I refuse to let my choppers rest
There was a time when talk of quiz was a precursor to an Iowa test
My basic skills are determinedly under-cutting my housewife guest
whose stems run north to her malignant tissue free mammae breast
In movies shooting orphans with high-powered rifles is done in jest
'cause in Amerika making ammunition is what wage-slaves do best