Sunday, June 27, 2010

Afreaka Asya.. You rope a Humacorn.

freedom gas is in its heart
a green dome shaggy with
leaf hoppers

come chop away some limbs
and see the old demon's head
you can see the thigh muscles
running through the temples

where the solid gold eyes
are warmed in its vagina
before the prayers
are fed to mighty eaglets

with a special helmet
you can enter the underground
system of pipes full of rushing water

if darkness
surrounds you
let your skin
begin its song

I could dig for a thousand years
in skin, twigs, and old demons
and never find another dance partner
like you

a self-launcher

a skeeter

you'd think about rich 19th century people
sleeping under ferns
but I'd be thinking of

sarcophagi filled with warm macaroni

warm green macaroni
filled w/ peppermint jelly

i'd think about you
with a heavy stainless steel
blue tooth ear accessory

I'd think about Klinger as a Klingon.

i'd think about
the ways meteorology
is both less and more random
than the people
you find inside
Macaroni Grylle

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Irrony Observes The Earthing.