But Yeah,

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Your book got opened,
I blew my breath over it,
And people laughed.

You don’t usually see such
Animalistic shit go down
Right on the Capitol Mall,

But I’m still frying a little from
Friday, and it’s Wednesday.
Richmond’s foggy as hell, but yeah,

I still bike, still compete. I miss Santa.
I tried to win it back off Him, but no.
The Super Chief chugs on,

Takes people to the beach for free,
And there is nothing I can do.
“You want to keep eating salty boiled rope?”

Barely poke at me with a knife: a quick
‘Eh?’ And I open up like bloody casserole.
“You mean on our vacation?” I meant nothing.

No more food in the Sea, with odd looks
Forming on the Sun. The thing has peaked
I tell you this wild-eyed Sun’s blind.

Some dogs drift past us, on a skiff with a cute mast
Made out of brooms. The brown one sits up, looks
Over at me and goes, fuck you iconic fucking humans.


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How can you teleport around a room just by 
Blinking (at women)? Either you’re high, or I’m low. 
I stare at your face in my black donut pillow, 
So I should just walk on by? Huh, 
Lay my body down like a typical draw-bridge  
                               Opened up for a performance, 
Cabling together streams of sentiment, 
Like a tomato covered in ants. 
Smacking my kids for shooting their 
                                    Arrows out our windows, 
At the scene happening outside. As the 
Clouds rolled over six meter mounds of rice like 
Some pompous collage. It was boss. The shit 
Always changing never ends. There is no deer 
Balanced up in a tree watching us…agreed?


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You’re the perfect doctor for a generation of teachers;
Without a passion for record-keeping. You tilt lower
Class. I mean stand up if you don’t love meerkats,

Or the things on Russia’s gorgeous coast, us
Helping them to free up their legitimate lives.
“Even the water babies act inexpressibly,”

Pulling the curtain back, showing everyone the keg.
See, there is a New England Hearse Museum. You
Smacked them for letting your buddy get wasted,

They’re like reptiles, but so are we, you love that.
Further displays, could they be less taxing? Just
Play the speech, put up a kiosk or some kind of shit,

I don’t know, this landing site feels awfully overdone.
I hope the main guys are up on their trail encounters.
I was dunking on them little pitbulls in 9th Grade.


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I hunt men I gather up women—
I’m renting people solid vacation shelter.
It’s no castle, they’re like mounds of dirty wax,
Each with a stairway down in to the sea.
Underwater, things are moving, breasts are
Blurred, like little ghosts of cooking spray.

For tomorrow, they’re asking the class
To check in at the light blue line by 7am.
Don’t get caught tongueing your sweetheart.
Her physique has only recently subsided,
She tried ingesting some of blue cleaner.
Who’s going to pay for those damages?

Our enchanting future’s all gone to ground.
Kids, get that fucking seaweed off the seashore.

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