Grass Skirt & Fruit Hat

[Doseone] I've been here, sat between railings with god named Celeste for Look Adam to establish yourself won't really burn off that fat Or we'll call it fat, that runs you near Archetypes that have been tested and failed continually tested and failed, god named Celeste has always akin to catch stones at dead clock Fortunately she's beautiful in the corners of her eyes and happy visible, "Good bye" She blinks while roughage falls from my skirt, my skirt roughage falls from my skirt Dripping with face lost I've the frozen meats and convention center specs To build a mirrored phallus right here, 10 miles high, for everyone to imitate But the drawings in the dust are filling up with dust again, and I've Just spent that 100 dollars friends, help though, hook line and sinker If I could cry and hug my cat all night I'd still be empty Or putting change in the meter for and entire block of people I know From bumps on a log, kite flying and chicken choking and running in place I'm stuffing mixed messages in bottles and dropping them in gutters And when someone gets it they'll be right where I was, and maybe that'll help So one day when the snake sucks its tail, I'll find a pot of gold and tons of letters left for me in a matchbox And that would be idle like grown men in tights, with fists, capes and eyebeams, I-beams I've been here, sat between poles with god name Sid for Look Adam to reanimate yourself won't really lop off that foot or we'll call it foot that carries you off Mezzanines that burst into situated right as you left situated, tsk tsk God named Sid has waited a long long time to say "I told you so" So consequentially he's eaten by a bear and happy unfortunate Goodbye he thinks as a tangelo falls from my hat Shush I say to the drones of potato people whistling my social security number Some mail man to be named later must not be doing his job I'm thinking of when that nuclear thing happens and I'm the only one left A ruin that doesn't look like the movies, it was made before, between 7 breakfast, 12 lunch 6:30 dinner, if I don't stack all these bones now and these feathers right after that I I'll pretend I'm sleeping and let them talk to my listening, listening Tongues and forks and noseplugs and problems are gears and I'm lamenting over those two edges coming together in the blood blister I got out of it all If I could be any animal which would it be? the human soul because there's almost no half-life It's negligible and covered in pus with marriage on top, from globs to shoulder width to back to the hospital it don't stop It's negligible and covered in pus with marriage on top, from globs to shoulder width to back to the hospital it don't stop Until the socially acceptable thing to do is be real...