An Average Morning

I smear the walls of my cave with boiled green bananas,
Strut out on one foot, donkey-kick with the other –
Outside’s a big game show,
Nobody is hurt unless they want to be that –
You best be the one who don’t not crack back.

It’s easy! It’s peasy! It’s perfectly squeezy!
Put a hand to the throat of dear Clotho and grip –
Ask why
Why must it have been borned?
This exlament version of you…

Inch up to wrongdoing but keep the self-respect.
I must remind myself
Don’t relieve yourself on the pavement
That hasn’t messed with you yet,
Keep one eye on the Pretty Femoid
one on the wooden bus bench –

I’m all wrapped up in cruel assignments today,
No time to examine
If exhibit B is pulp or grain –

It is our secret, okay?
Bury it under inches of concrete.
Hey, go on then… get on to work!

the sweetie, she moves…!
Takes a sip of a coffee!

Take a blue stone wrapped in
silver hat-fleece to both my eyes –
That is the final curtsey of the Moon.

I taste clock drift, packet loss –
She’s about
And out
Buying shoes with the dollars of the day
Freshly shaven ice-legs in jelly clogs –
they’re brittle!

The thought of her still loves me up a little,
As I trudge up ramp walk into emptier passages.
Refrain from bothering me again.

She will see she will see,
When I shove her awake in the morning,
How egg-like the world is,
silent, speckled brown –
Get waist-deep in Pond O’ Pantone Oh Thirteen,
Stab my breakfast in its shoulder of apple meat.

Wait as I
Slow-pour a pineapple slushie onto
my forehead,
really heating things up for her while I
climb over Blumen’s churning
pubis mounds,
slippy slippy that padded foam,
drippy drippy my pool
mouth full of
sequins and nackle.

I’ll be carted back
To the beginning of the rainbow
After-after having completed my Battle song,
Sporting tutelage of Cambridge,
And seen behind the fiery curtain there.

Ahhh, to see those eyes misty,
When Earth be young –
Hey, not me, not me!

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