45*21

oof! the dogs are partying pool side
cranberry sauce and lemony souflet
I had my head shot retaken for it is
and I am not always a measure of a
a quiet sound behind velvet lightly
dangled in front of my brain hurts
real bad pour that Gator Aid on me
man bind and quarter us like pygmy
warriors out for a good time after a
lengthy conversation with the devil
behind the detail trains get derailed
a temple to keep the brain from all
out wandering. Wouldn't want the
dogs getting on you for the wrong
word or backstroke of hand baby a
roll around this planet with you is
all that the master painted it to be
along these roads we go unfazed by
our own handwriting how fast it all
goes down into a history of no digit
to punch along your lasting similes