Leave your iceblock in the rain see it clearcreek down the drain. Mom hollered down the moon with her big bingo arms. Old coyote sniffs out the fire with a nose wetter than two oceans. Meals in the rainstring can leave your feet festering with fleece fleas. Loud bellied fish are much more difficult to multiply. Glee in the glossary is not gone into. Wild and gamey was how the smells occurred to the crowd. His chest: Hair upon hair, pouring in a cascade of greasy curls, pubic in appearance, and ungroomed since the divorce. Well in Wyoming, the rabbit hole, the gunslinging façade, and the archery haybail out back in the pines. Let your gums go, don’t drag your teeth on the ground because dental hygiene is without doubt the most difficult task to Do Yourself. I am the nose-splitter, the skull splinter, the drum sprinter, the heavy hinter, the rat-a-tat-tat flinter, in your way on a narrow sidewalk and heavy traffic on both sides. Even the sounding of the beagles at the break of the Belugian Barmitzvah would never have stopped me from getting what was mine. Health to your own, and death or whatever they deserve to everyone else. Kinds words for kind folk, live words for livery, Deep in the drawling dusk there was deal being shook upon. The reels in the raptor raid can recall the morose meaning inside of the motorcade. The feelfire in my foot has refrained from waking by more meticulous self. We sleep halfways when we want, we half-ass our rest because peace of mind is always second to piece of the pie. Hellfire hallways with sticky coke floors that cannot reflect the sinners skidding in socks forever down their furnacing funnels. Oh cant say you see, can it still be, can the run in river be stopped at the sea? Heal the harbours, the boats come in lame: a mast dragging dead, a slopping half-sunk hull, the sailors all grey and torn like rags. Give them some water, take it out of the camel cooler, the hump has granola bars and evian waterbottles. For the fore at four. “Well, I can’t see any reason to stop now. I mean you’ve gotten past the patella.” Meathead in the Mayflower, the Pilgrim’s push, the real reason behind the starving first Thanksgiving Day. The blight has bite.