giving lip-service to this live unit

the dire consequences of a constantly day dreaming speculation based on what he did didn’t do
with pop quiz grade scores to test in ineffectiveness of the ability to change something that’s always changing leaves him sadistically blasted on
like burt lancaster in bikini briefs with freshly burnt buns, stupid.
stupid, but utterly important, he spills it.
chaotic feedback mechanism commences, indispensable units of deep fried deliciousness, but its only magazine pictures, and the words in the black book are only scriptures, impractically inept at giving lip-service to this live unit,
he curses the heavens with envy, only to coil into a cartoon ball like ren or stimpy, stuck in a parallax battle unit platoon shoot down. bunk bed cupcakes plastered on cheap sheets and socks that never stink,
she’s going ape butt for daises
but the invasiveness of the species
drives the other neighbors crazy,
how fondly absurd of you Mrs. Carlyle,
didn’t mean to offend
or bend the unwritten rules for gods sake.
gotta recheck my good choice chart
before i decide to act next time, times ten million billion human heart rockets blasting off.
what’s next, you me and everybody we love.
stupid dope, and lonely to boot, one mixed up kid sittin in the corner,
ready to explode with the melodies that encode the harmonic structure that is his mind, but marks don’t reach high enough, tisk tisk, sweep em out with the rest of the happy hippy shit, don’t ya know boy, were trying to make dollars not sense,
dollars not sense
hearts can’t actually speak
lights are for illuminating dark spaces
not for making love
you cant make love with your light, but angelo the winged serpent tells me different
he says “what about electricity”, training wheels, baby steps, wobbling ponies, rainbow beams bursting from their eyes in all directions.

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