Calculate my brunt

X


Full books lost to pancakes and laundry. So far gone the sadness weeps puppy dog tails and unkempt snails that pave the way with ooey gooey sugar and spice. Everything nice waiting quietly,

as dynamite would,

waiting for a time to kill again.


X


The batter thickens when despair is added and mixed regularly. If the batter is too thick just add weiners and smooth until lumpy and golden brown, serve electrocuted.


X


That’s boobies not boobless you asshole. Say hello to your hell shoes you upside-down electronic fiend!


X


Hurry up and wait for the rushing to subside. my parents may have played the world’s smallest violins in music class but I’m in no hurry.


X


Bomb blasts busting bumblebees and berating Belgian bus boys with bananas in Boca Rattan.
Boy oh boy.


X



The pilfered sweater shrieks its vengeance, an axe through the face like rancid butter, face down on my side of the bread.
Nasty pimples on your children’s u
g
l
y f
a
c
e
s.

X


Scraps of paper given life by roller skates with no name. What’s my problem? GUYANA! That’s my problem, wait. . . . no it isn’t. The pushy guy is my problem. I don’t want your meat! Eat a bag of Socks! Time for donuts of Italian decent.

Bacon.


X


Early morning reverie expelled from my lungs ardently assuming things about what I’ve done. I have no patience for the morning show and humour found within. I’ve only got five minutes alone with my rye and gin.


X

Cracks cut deep, straight to bones of jelly pressing firmly to the kind of ligaments a lumberjack would hold if on fire. Pavement emancipating the iron cross on wood, driven nails in competition with
s n o w

(no longer in the forecast). Can you stop the engine in time to hear the birds last call? And can you smell the approaching rain over your c i g a r e t t e breakfast?

X

Bombs filled with guns ineffectually arming the pointed questions with blunt objects of deafening McNuggets.

X

Grand are toys that are found, fine and round edged. They frolic less painfully from the head smashing, rejoicing in a non-anthropomorphic way that innumerable tortures go unfelt. So glad are they; as well as delicious.




XXX.bazooka.XXX