at the speed of snot i smothered the puck
to avoid getting glossy blue all over
straight from work trying to integrate
into the mould-rust -spore scene yes
once you were a minstrel dragging
2 barrels of fun when you got
kissed by santé fe & turned into a
yard sale by the time i learn to
imitate the squeal of a pursued rabbit the game will
already be in the refrigerator a closed off room where
disinformation trickles spreads
apple sauce from california to maine stratosphere
joe is going elvis getting handed a bum
steer ending up in the unshadiest
of spots besides this
off-kilter giggle soup i have nothing to add but
confused narratives don’t
want an encore
need
a refund