1970 Odysseus visits cousin Patsy in New York City she introduces him to her best friend Lauren’s older less attractive more reclusive sister Tanya Mulhaney extremely wealthy family father founded corporation manufactures pinball machines which years later develop to video games then casino empire he favors and spoils Tanya but dies suddenly her envious sisters and mother gang up on Tanya is pale skinny flat-chested copious brown bush Odysseus sits in bathtub with Tanya and he probes in a way they hits it off maybe no boy has ever touched her in that way her complexion is so fragile slightest fluster prompts pink blotches on her cheeks neck chest back he admires her book smarts he’s attracted to her refined strangeness he thinks her bush and flat-chest are **** she laughs shyly offers to take him around the world he accepts Odysseus tells his parents Mom goes crazy yells into telephone what are you a ******? you father and i work like fools to send you to the best schools so you can make something of yourself you’re going to throw everything away to be a ***? i tell you we’ll disown you you won’t have a home to come back to do you hear me? we’ll disown you! she sobs how can you just walk out after all we have done for you? you ******* kid! Odysseus takes leave of absence from art school he and Tanya take Iberia jet 12 hour flight with stopover in Iceland to Belgium Tanya sinks into one of her moods swallows several pills to help her rest sitting on other side of Odysseus is curly haired skinny talkative musician claims he has jammed with Miles Davis and other jazz greats Odysseus says yeah right and i’ve shown with Johns and Twombly where exactly are you heading in Europe? musician answers he is a scientologist on his way to visit L. Ron Hubbard in England Odysseus does not know what Dianetics are and wants explanation he asks many questions and musician talks for hours they enjoy each other’s rapport as jet descends in Brussels they exchange home addresses in the States 9 months later when Odysseus returns to America a friend notices scribbled address while skimming through his travel journals Odys! how did you get Chick Corea’s address? do you know him? do you realize how brilliant he is? he’s a keyboard virtuoso! Odysseus questions Chick Corea? who’s Chick Corea? he looks at journal page then says oh that guy i sat next to him on the jet to Europe so he really is a famous musician huh? wow!

in October 1970 Brussels is damp chilly Tanya wears hip-hugger jeans black turtle-neck top North Face shell she huddles her arms around her chest smokes cigarettes looks through hotel room window out into gray overcast sky speaks in defeatist voice i didn’t bring clothes for this weather she picks at her plate in hotel restaurant glumly vacillates later in bed after refusing *** decides they leave tomorrow fly to Canary Islands for several weeks to get tan before traveling through Morocco during winter months Canary Islands are laden with Swedish tourists including bikini clad young girls many not wearing tops Odysseus is thinking about how to swing some of that Swedish free love once Tanya gets drunk succumbs to Odysseus’s ****** overtures it is good  one day while returning to hotel from beach 2 Spanish police stop and question Tanya and Odysseus police order to see their passports then command them into squad car police bark in Spanish rifle through their daypacks point a finger Odysseus can smell alcohol on their breaths Tanya and Odysseus are terrified police drive off main road to remote location abandoned ruins no one is around police order them to step out police drive off laughing Tanya’s complexion is crimson she sobs they could have murdered us no one would know who we are or where to find us we’re lost where are we? Odysseus looks around replies don’t worry we’ll be all right i watched where the driver was going we’ll retrace their trail

they fly to Tangier travel south by train Tanya is irritable insisting Odysseus carry her backpack Casablanca is ***** 3 men peer from sunglasses act suspicious wear tattered trench coats Tanya and Odysseus snack at cafe which provides hookahs for smoking hashish Odysseus scores several grams Tanya laughs suggests they rent car drive south travel to sandy beaches of Diabet for 6 weeks in the morning she paces around French hotel room with cigarette in one hand ashtray in other like she is sultry 1940’s Hollywood actress she stays in room and devours Penguin Classics Tolstoy Stendhal Proust Huysmans Zola turns out Tanya is sexually frigid she buys Odysseus anything he wants but does not put out they take train Marrakech it is sun drenched with blue skies mountains in distance Odysseus wants to go out explore get ***** with the natives he visits Medina daily witnessing many bizarre scenes he does not understand a woman squatting over an egg a man with no legs dragging himself through marketplace holding up cigarette butts in his hand he meets a professor who is out of work because king of Morocco has closed the universities due to teachers’ strike professor explains woman squatting over egg is fortuneteller and man dragging himself has been offered crutches many times yet makes more money playing off pity of tourists cigarette butts are for sale the professor invites Odysseus to visit Berbers in mountains Odysseus persuades Tanya she reluctantly agrees the 3 travel by bus in first-class front row seats vehicle filled with lively families chickens pig bus driver has assistant who lugs people onto bus or shoves them out door at a midpoint bus stops in little town everyone exits bus then men women children urinate in street local venders sell trinkets snacks Odysseus buys nibbles shish-kabob that later professor informs is roasted cat and dog they reenter bus wait suddenly butchered lamb flank is flung onto Odysseus’s lap a man climbs aboard bus stairs then grabs large carcass and heedlessly walks to back seat Odysseus wipes blood and slime off his jeans Tanya demurely giggles bus climbs mountains arrives at small Berber village professor leads them along narrow winding street of shanty huts sheltering merchants open kitchens professor tastes from various steaming iron kettles finally decides on one they are directed to rickety roof where they sit wait a boy comes up with plastic bowl filled with water and small box of Tide following professor they wash their hands then minutes later proprietor brings up simmering *** of couscous serves it with scratched raw plastic bowls no eating utensils they eat with their fingers Tanya seems bothered declines to partake she withdraws into silence after meal she becomes irritable complains of headache says she needs to return to Marrakech she remains standoffish on bus all the way to French hotel

after Marrakech they take boat trip to Italy while onboard Odysseus meets Italian Count who has an eye for him Odysseus wears Jim Morrison beat-up leather jeans Bruce Lee t-shirt scraggly whiskers Count wears thin manicured beard tiny red Speedo swim trunks Tanya grins amused Count offers Odysseus and Tanya to be guests at his villa in Milan city flourishes with stylish clothes loud lively restaurants classical sculptures covered in car pollution following several weeks of aristocratic wining and dining amazing 11 course elegant soiree Odysseus botches compliance with Count’s desires they are asked to leave Tanya laughs hysterically they board train to Germany based on Tanya’s tour book they find historic hotel with wind rattling windows coin operated hot water bath in Munich Tanya stays in room Odysseus goes to dance club meets brown-hared pale skinned German girl neither speak the other’s language he pays for hourly rated room they play German girl in animated gesturing warns him as he is going down on her but he does not understand until several days later scratching beard finds ***** seeks A-200 lice treatment German version leather pants disposed Tanya knows but says nothing she buys Volkswagen they drive through Black Forest Tanya wants to visit King Ludwig’s castles Odysseus does the driving mostly they listen to the Who’s “Who’s Next” and Joni Mitchell’s “Blue” he follows Tanya’s instructions not knowing who King Ludwig was eventually he learns Ludwig was colorful character built extravagant Disney like castles and friends Richard Wagner Bavaria is cold gray brown deep forest green scenic Swiss Alps visible in southern view they drive from Neuschwanstein to Linderhof to Herrenchiemsee then Freiburg lodge in bed and breakfasts Tanya grows restless by all the driving decides to ditch car along road in northern France as Odysseus unscrews car license by road side several cars stop French people concerned they need help Tanya is anxious hoping for clean get away from abandoning vehicle they board train to Paris Tanya speaks a little French in spring of 1971 they are backpacking in search of hotel on Left Bank it rains all morning sky is overcast Tanya reads “Pride and Prejudice” Odysseus draws in sketchbook at sidewalk café sitting next to them are older Parisian couple man detects they are Americans he turns to them expresses in English his contempt why can’t you Americans learn from France’s lessons in Vietnam? Tanya and Odysseus don’t look up they feel like dumb ugly Americans within days they leave Paris

cross English Channel by boat they find temporary apartment in Earl’s Court in London it is overcast almost every day within a month they move to larger place in Chelsea with backyard with run down English garden Odysseus weeds garden plants tomatoes lettuce carrots radishes flowers Tanya stays in her room smokes reads at night they go out to ethnic restaurants one night they visit Indian restaurant a very proper English woman sitting at next table orders exotic fruit for dessert Odysseus asks waiter what kind of fruit waiter answers mango Odysseus has never seen or tasted mango English woman delicately eats the fruit with fork and knife Odysseus orders mango for dessert he attempts to imitate how English lady proceeded fruit slips around on plate finally out of frustration he picks it up in his hands bites into it he is aroused by how luscious mango is sniffing with nose scraping fruit’s skin with front teeth then ******* the seed Tanya makes a face suddenly the seed slides from his grasp shoots across table Tanya’s cheeks neck turn scarlet voice raises stop it Odys! you’re disgusting! are you intentionally trying to embarrass me? why are you doing this? he replies i’m not doing anything to you i’m enjoying the most delicious fruit i’ve ever tasted who cares what it looks like? later she laughs about incident offers to buy more mangos promises to take him shopping at Harrods tomorrow he goes along with their arrangement until it all seems like pretty background scenery to an empty intimacy missing all his friends back at art school he writes about his loneliness he feels trapped in Tanya’s web several times he sneaks English girls into his room when Tanya jealously confronts him he admits he has had enough and wants to go back to Hartford she suggests at the least they fly to Bermuda for several weeks to get tan before returning he declines on June 30 1971 Odysseus returns to Hartford and Tanya moves to San Francisco on July 3 Jim Morrison overdoses in Paris

in the manufactured waves of chlorine
my feet stand on concrete shores
and tiles grappled with maritime life
of dead leaves that have crept its way
in an ecosystem of unnatural residents
with sunken treasures buried beneath
the heavy blankets of swimmers' feet
a child's lost pair of goggles gleams
in the crevices of the ceramic seabed
sunbeams bounce off the plastic
an underwater mirage for the pool's
regular inhabitants armed in spandex
these are the common sights
of The Public Pool
and it's in the rare quiet moments
of carefully constructed serenity
when you are the sole ruler of
your concrete public pool kingdom
when your camp has been pillaged
by a thousand 5 year olds garbed
in their best hot pink speedo suits
and equipped with the best water guns
maintaining their positions like
a modern Praetorian legion swathed
in modern day mass-produced tunics
huddled in formation with limbs afloat
assembled and hungry to conduct
a carefully constructed battle of dominance
when the water surrounding you
suddenly feels too warm
it's too warm for it to be the chlorine
and you look up to see their leader –
their leader in the speedo silicone swim cap
is flushed as red as her speedo suit: a sight
against the synthetic cerulean landscape
that you realize:
you own nothing in this world
even the public pool gets invaded
even the public pool gets ****** in
so you might as well enjoy shallow ends
and every little joy life has to offer
the universe will **** itself eventually

This poem will rock, with a Demon and ****!
Sinful hellfire, and brimstone, that's it..
a pitchfork up the *** of rock
so what they'll think I am a ****
A slammin' crashing rage of metal
speedo in the red
stamp that pedal
turn up the fire
turn on the heat
hmm..... my tummy is empty
Mum, what's there to eat........?

You're ******* in time ticking choices away
white light fills the night till its brighter than day
cacophonous voices can say what they say
from the dusk till the meaningless dawn
Then secured by a seatbelt to leather and foam
the speedo's at zero six yards from your home
a million neighbours, completely alone
you're a shell, you're a shade, you're a pawn
But glance through the windscreen and look at the sky
a seagull, suspended, is catching your eye
you sense a connection but cannot say why
as it tilts on the wind and is gone
Then the trees you drive under are sharpened and clear
they're humming and pulsing beneath the veneer
you're dazed and confused as you shift up a gear
dumbly wondering what's going on
You turn on the satnav for guidance and sound
but its whisper can't silence this thing you have found
from the shimmering clouds to the roots of the ground
Is a force that is ancient and new
You try to pretend like a terrified child
that the world can be binary indexed and filed
and the sparkling eye of the jackdawish wild
isn't focused intently on you
But there is no denying this fluttering clutch
that is moss-furred and feathered, a hurricane touch
that you knew long ago and you've missed it so much
with a longing that's howling and black
But she's patiently stationed there just out of sight
as you've built your resistance from pixel and byte
Rebellious teenager, pitiful plight
she is waiting to welcome you back
Yes Nature is waiting to welcome you back
She's beneath every slab and behind every crack
at the nethermost end of the bitterest track
she is waiting to welcome you back
Forever forgiving, unloosed unconfined
she is mad she is chaos she's love and she's blind
volcanic voluptuous core of mankind
she is waiting to welcome you back.

i am currently pitching a tent
do you know my intent?
i currently have a *****
i wonder if shes a groaner
lets play battleships can i sink you with my pink torpedo
i need to get out my pink speedo
so lets ****
or would you like to ****

Shut the **** up!  You moan more than what I do.
Ever thought there's people going through more **** than you... Way more, like ten times more, then times that **** by 2. Oh, wow! Someone pushed in front of you in the supermarket at the express queue.  Oh poor you! There's a starving family in the slums that's been poor for so long,so long, longer than the amount of times you've circled the sun , but your self worth circles around you. You're in a galaxy where every star represents your ego. You and your petty first world problems make me cringe just like a rich hairy dude, over indulging while he dines on his yacht in a speedo. The point of this is that your **** is petty, just like the guy in the speedo, he looks like a yetti...mindless jibba-jabber, ask yourself does the world need this? NO!!!

I wanted to learn how to swim back then.
I was a little chubby and my skin was white
as milk. I wore my favorite red Speedo swim
suit. My couch told me to swim to him in the
pool when no one was looking he touched my
upper thigh. “If you scream or cry I’ll hurt you”
he said. In a blink of an eye he pinched and
twisted the skin on my thigh. Out of the water
I went showing my mom bruised and blue skin.
She grabbed me by the hand and into the manager’s
office we went. I showed him the blue mark on
my skin telling him your coach touched me with
his hand he told me not to tell. With anger and
shame my coach came in before he spoke or tried to
turn what he’d done to me into a joke he was told
that he’s been fired and not allowed to be near the
pool ever again. Despite the bruise on my skin I
was happy to get my revenge to speak out and not
let the fear take over me from within* ~

And the journey begins
From the land of 10,000 10,000 mile high clouds
Drenching jungles and shores of ancient coral gardens
Long since harvested from the sea
Where they plant the love of their country in foreigners row by row by row
Where bananas resemble mashed potatoes and are served with onions
Where people can name the entire Yankees roster and have never kicked a soccerball
And yes my feet are tired
Because flip flops, like the government, offer little support
And who knows when I'll get the last grain of sand out of my hair
Or when the ringing in my ears from trumpet blasts will finally fade
Or the taste of unavoidably ingested bug spray will finally stop burning the back of my throat
my speedo tan lines will likely be the first to go
But all the myriad lessons internalized (read: only spray yourself with bugspray out doors)
All the friends friended with zero electronic interference (like the turtle hatchling I held or the man who volunteers years of his life protecting them for results that likely won't be seen in his lifetime)
Will live inside me forever
For, ever will my journey continue
Until we meet
And I can share them all with you
We can feast on them together
And they can maybe one day help you grow
like a mangrove tree
and harbor ideas of love in your roots like baby fish
And maybe if you're lucky, even taste the bug spray for yourself

It's one eighty on the speedo,
I can almost touch Toledo
and the train is melting steel.
I feel
alive.

I have a big brown dog named Beedo
He looks real good in his speedo
He likes to swim in the lake
After he lays in the sun getting baked

My bros name is Nat
His hair's looking quite flat
Sometimes he smells like a bear
Even though his body shape's a pear

We have a loving mother
We'd never trade her for another
For Christmas we got her a vest
The vest was only for the best

My name is Jackie
I can be extremely wacky

You may think that I am famous
Can't recall my name but
You've seen me hang out with the stars

Believe me I'm right there with ya
I'm in their every picture
They don't know me but I know who they are

Thought it'd do me a world of good
To move out West to Hollywood
And try to get my name put up in lights

I myself see nothing wrong
Being the king of the Photo Bomb
Though I'm still matinee and not full price

When I see a major star
I run up to their fancy car
And kindly open up the door

They all give me the strangest glance
When they can't quite place me yet
They feel they've seen me somewhere before

I'm at the next table in the restaurant
Sitting smiling nonchalant
Big toothy grins when the flash bulbs go pop

I'm the guy by the swimming pool
In the Speedo looking cool
Waiting on the Photo Bomb to drop

Or the guy on the red carpet
Expertly placing my spinning head
At the perfect strategical angle

So when the picture does appear
In all the Major Rags for years
I'll be more famous than Charlie Rangel

Those of us that'll never make it
Can anyone really blame us
For trying to slide our way to the top

It's all I really know how to do
If you really must know the truth
My only claim to fame...the Photo Bomb

We went to sit at the front of the train
In seeking that extra thrill,
Marlene and me, and a guy called Kane
Who came from Mulberry Hill,
I hadn’t known him at all till then
He said that he knew Marlene,
And she had smirked when he said he knew,
She didn’t know that I’d seen.

Now this was one of those super trains
And we knew how fast it could go,
Over two hundred clicks, they said,
They certainly put on a show,
We sat in the very front window seat
Could see where the driver sat,
He wore a coat of orange and green,
A ridiculous pork pie hat.

Well, finally someone had signalled ‘Go’
And we rumbled off down the line,
To start, the engine was going slow
The driver had plenty of time,
But then, once out in the countryside
He must have been feeling the heat,
For it went so fast, down the track at last
It threw us back into the seat.

The trees and the meadows were flashing by,
No sooner there, they were gone
The little farms and the rustic barns
Like the gardens of Babylon,
Marlene was pale, I looked at her face
And Kane he was almost white,
‘I think we’d better move back,’ he said,
‘I’d like to get home tonight.’

I said I’d stay, when they both got up
And moved to the back of the car,
I didn’t want to give in to fright
We wouldn’t be travelling far,
But we missed a stop, went roaring through
And I looked where the driver sat,
He was slumped on over the speed controls
With his pork pie hat in his lap.

When the speedo said a hundred and ten
I first thought of throwing up,
It reached a hundred and ninety when
I did, in a paper cup,
The driver lay there, dead on the stick
As far as anyone knew,
We couldn’t get into his cab to check
And as for the train, it flew.

I joined the others, up at the back
And wrapped myself round a pole,
So when the rescuers got to me
At least they would find me whole.
The others stood, and clung to a rail
That passed up over their heads,
I said, ‘Get down, that metal will fail
And both of you end up dead.’

They wouldn’t budge in their deadly funk
Their eyes were popping and white,
We hit the buffers at General Trunk
And both took off in their flight.
Kane headfirst like an arrow flew,
Marlene went more like a ball,
So where Kane went through the windscreen first
The hole was narrow and small.

Marlene, there wasn’t a piece intact,
A rescuer known as Krips,
Said he had just been checking around
And found her child-bearing hips.
I got a terrible rupture where
The pole almost cut me in half,
Since then, I don’t ever travel by train
But stick to a horse and cart.

David Lewis Paget

Got enough blood in the bank
to drive and see mirror-like symptoms
marred by a white noise flu.
Dear sirs and Madams,
I'll take my meals in the mausoleum
of black tar pillars,
and alpha male afflicted Appalachia.

Slinging my leg over the mechanical horse, I crank over the starter and listen to the heart of the beast tick away. I tell myself I’m just taking it out for a tank of gas. No need to push it.

Winding my way down the twisties, I find myself heading in the wrong direction. ***** it. I’ll find my own way there.

Straight stretch coming up, I pull in the clutch, give her a little gas, and drop the lever; lurching the animal back onto its hind leg. Looking under the handlebars at the curve coming up, I land the front wheel back down, and power my way into the next gear.

Bike screaming out of the corner, foot pegs blowing hot sparks behind me, I twist the throttle down, and hug the gas tank with my chest; the raging bull screaming underneath me as we rocket into a locust storm. Chunk by chunk, they blast onto my body and face like war paint shot out of a cannon.

Looking an inch over the speedo and handlebars, my speed cannot be seen. There’s no time to look, and my eyes are crying fire from the raw wind. My ears roar with the sound of a jetliner crashing into the ocean. The tears are dry before they hit my ears.

Now in top gear, full throttle, I move my feet away from the brake, and shifter, back to the tail of the bike; gripping with my legs to hold on, as I rocket into the horizon horizontally.  Finally, I take my left hand off the handlebar, and tuck it between the gas tank and the radiator, so that I fly through the air like a shark.

I open my mouth, and a wind enema shoots its way through my sinuses and out my nose. I smell pure oxygen. My vision closes in, my eyes strain to see the road ahead. My chest is beating faster than the pistons on this death machine. I can see it. The edge. Forever tempting me.

of my head.
This reverie sticks to me
as the sweaty sheets
in my bed. Wrapping around
me as a burrito, clinging to me
as a beach ***'s speedo.

I can't get him out
the door.
He's blended into
the furniture. He's woven
in the tapestry. We're packed
together like bananas
in a banana tree.

I can’t get him out
of my heart.
My blood’s shaken up
as cream churning
into butter. The reds
solidify and make
my heart flutter.

May not be home
But it’s where I’ll go
Where the wind keeps howling on
Crying out to the birds and the stones
Ain’t it time that we roll these bones
Hear me calling out to you
Turn these lights down low
See the suns not out no more
But the moon holds us close
You keep calling and calling and calling
But the universe never replies
Calling out names of these people you read about
Literature selling you lies
Think for one second
Just try to exist, don’t forget that we still have time
To rewrite the books, but not about god
To be who you want, tonight
Maybe we’re special, but maybe we’re not
Maybe I’m hopeless, and maybe you’re lost
Maybe the wine you drank isn’t the wine
You want, but you got it for free so *******
It’s not about glamour, it’s about nobility
You to be you, and just to be real to me
Tonight, I’ll say it tonight
What the **** do you feel, what’s on your mind
How’s it going? You feeling alright?
You want a drink? Is everything fine?
Asking all them questions
Why’s it so upsetting
Oh, baby, you alright?
What the **** have I done
What did I do
Why isn’t everything going as smooth
It’s ky, but it’s fire and ice
What the **** did I say that wasn’t nice
Oh right it’s all in my mind
I’m steadily losing my ******* rights
To a disease
The internal kind
Maybe depression but I call it life
Hi, how are ya?
My names Keenan
I’m just the janitor, here, see me sweeping
The floors to the ******* ceiling
With your daughter, **** stuck in her *** pig squealing

I’m sorry, back to the rhymes
The yin and the yang, in and outs of life
Gnawing away at my heart and mind
Screaming I just can’t do right
Be perfectly honest
Be balanced and humble
But if you **** up
You’re going to crumble
Your character, it doesn’t flatter me
What the ***** going on, why you mad at me?
I don’t know what to do this time
Is somebody listening, hand me a sign
Oh not my own, it doesn’t feel kind
Sinister left handed crick in my spine
I think all the ******* time
With a bottle in one hand, a smoke in my right
Which vice, I cannot decide
Which one of you will be driving home tonight?

May not be home but it’s where I’ll go
Where the wind keeps howling on
Seeding the answers we didn’t ask for
Or gave nothing more than a thought
Who do I want to be
What do I want to need
Why is everything so ******* unclear to me
Tell me now
A frontal lobotomy
It feels like something is ripping inside of me

Take it out, take two, let’s start over
Maybe this time I’ll try to stay sober
Lower the voice, and make a choice
As a boy, didn’t your mother teach you
how to outwit this noise
I can’t sift through the words left on read
It fills my head up with dread
Turn to the music, just anything soothing
While I drive into the sunset

Top the speedo, I can’t leave me though
I can’t see through the fear and the **** smoke
Can’t keep the needles in green, no
Everybody, anybody, wanna give me hope
Embrace the anger, take back the rush
They’re not worthy of this much love
All of the shame, the guilt, the blame
You made me feel when I was me though

It’s not right, I shouldn’t fight
All the words I wasted on you
(While you were) just flexing your might
Telling me I’m wrong, with your god, and your flaws
I’d given everything I knew, to try to see your side
I can’t do anything right
You said it a thousand times
Off it already
Just hand me the shovel
The worms will eat good tonight

Desperation of something I longed for
Not knowing I walked through the wrong door
Crouched down in the corner, like a bunny
Locked with the eyes of a condor
Sharp inhale, and a blank stare
If I’m not ‘me’, then I’m not there
Gotta survive though, can’t fight fair
Quick jump, backflip from the blind hare

Out for blood, I can’t say it enough
You can think and pray that you’re tough
Fueled by the words you maliciously sent through
My veins, you cut off my pride for your luck
My thoughts are now clearing up
These seas, they’re not so rough
Little salty though, and a little cold
Better than the fake love from your fake home

& we need bombs to blow up folks who claim Bruce Jenner's a guy
whose vehicular homicides are faultless on a California codger tour
that skids by a nursin' home that's home to washed-up Roger Moore
with his lady-killing libido that marked him as a bed-hoppin' *****
on the Sunset Strip & in East L.A. & along 9 miles of Pacific shore
where, in Speedo bikini trunks, upon a polite society, he waged war

Deep where daytime plunges I view images obverse rendered slight
wrung from a perspective when noon of day becomes noon of night
among **** whose hot water's cold & whose saggy ******* are tight
to show straight Venezuelan queers that head-wise they're not right,
as if to correct **** San Pedro dragsters who fist-ways can not fight
Charles Carroll of Homewood never trapped mice not worth killing
Charles Carroll of Carrollton signed free declarations Allāh willing
Charles Carroll of Annapolis wrote that Turkical gals were thrilling
in tropic moonshine French vanilla ice cream's quite filling because
for no Scandinavian ******* there's no Scandinavian-****** dealing
and so without Croatian moolies there's no Croatian-****** grilling
when stolen-hubcap rates rise with the rise of 'hood-hubcap stealing
con-ghetto markets are swamped with hubcaps spooks were trailing
while black markets are burstin' with cool hubcaps they like selling
before choco shops are flooded by hot hubcaps negroes be smelling
after flea markets go awash with hub hot caps ***** are concealing
their motivations that would be revelationary to crimes protocolical
that are as penetrative as contacts rated allopathically transdermical
so as to counter stimuli sprouting superficial growth sclerodermical
within mutagenical outcroppings phasically presumed hydrostatical
It was Ric Flair who had a stare what could scare a bear because no
one fixes fair hair in a chair devil-may-care with their *** in the air!
It was Sonny plus Cher who did dare to spare rare bikini underwear
'cause no Bono heir can compare to share the glare of 1 blaring pair
Mountaineers need rear gear to snare sheer facets & clear a bare ear
when fear is a mere sad tear in the career of chairman Norman Lear  
We need guns to **** fascists because in America it's live free or die
& we need guns to **** pizza thugs demandin': "Give me your pie!"
& we need bombs to blow up folks who claim Bruce Jenner's a guy
whose vehicular homicides are faultless on a California codger tour
that skids by a nursin' home that's home to washed-up Roger Moore
with his lady-killing libido that marked him as a bed-hoppin' *****
on the Sunset Strip & in East L.A. & along 9 miles of Pacific shore
where, in Speedo bikini trunks, upon a polite society, he waged war

Oh it was a fine day
Lollipops melt like honydrops
Leaflets running high ow speed should ow may I say speedo
Ow ye
What the hatricks ow matricks
Kiddo ow should I say kidding o
Thought of a day
Let it rain
Wind whispears
Ow what a laugh
Serious
So serious

We need guns to **** fascists because in America it's live free or die
& we need guns to **** pizza thugs demandin': "Give me your pie!"
& we need bombs to blow up folks who claim Bruce Jenner's a guy
whose vehicular homicides are faultless on a California codger tour
that skids by a nursin' home that's home to washed-up Roger Moore
with his lady-killing libido that marked him as a bed-hoppin' *****
on the Sunset Strip & in East L.A. & along 9 miles of Pacific shore
where, in Speedo bikini trunks, upon a polite society, he waged war.

☎ ☎ ☎ ☎ ☎
Deep where daytime plunges I view images obverse rendered slight
wrung from a perspective when noon of day becomes noon of night
among **** whose hot water's cold & whose saggy ******* are tight
to show straight Venezuelan queers that head-wise they're not right,
as if to correct **** San Pedro dragsters who fist-ways can not fight
Charles Carroll of Homewood never trapped mice not worth killing
Charles Carroll of Carrollton signed free declarations Allāh willing
Charles Carroll of Annapolis wrote that Turkical gals were thrilling
in tropic moonshine French vanilla ice cream's quite filling because
for no Scandinavian ******* there's no Scandinavian-****** dealing
and so without Croatian moolies there's no Croatian-****** grilling
when stolen-hubcap rates rise with the rise of 'hood-hubcap stealing
con-ghetto markets are swamped with hubcaps spooks were trailing
while black markets are burstin' with cool hubcaps they like selling
before choco shops are flooded by hot hubcaps negroes be smelling
after flea markets go awash with hub hot caps ***** are concealing
their motivations that would be revelationary to crimes protocolical
that are as penetrative as contacts rated allopathically transdermical
so as to counter stimuli sprouting superficial growth sclerodermical
within mutagenical outcroppings phasically presumed hydrostatical
It was Ric Flair who had a stare what could scare a bear because no
one fixes fair hair in a chair devil-may-care with their *** in the air!
It was Sonny plus Cher who did dare to spare rare bikini underwear
'cause no Bono heir can compare to share the glare of 1 blaring pair
Mountaineers need rear gear to snare sheer facets & clear a bare ear
when fear is a mere sad tear in the career of chairman Norman Lear  
We need guns to **** fascists because in America it's live free or die
& we need guns to **** pizza thugs demandin': "Give me your pie!"
& we need bombs to blow up folks who claim Bruce Jenner's a guy
whose vehicular homicides are faultless on a California codger tour
that skids by a nursin' home that's home to washed-up Roger Moore
with his lady-killing libido that marked him as a bed-hoppin' *****
on the Sunset Strip & in East L.A. & along 9 miles of Pacific shore
where, in Speedo bikini trunks, upon a polite society, he waged war
☎ ☎ ☎ ☎ ☎