cut! cut! cut!

A fetish overfamiliarity
broadsided me.

A series of price truths
or truth prices
really fucked me up.

Tongues lately
archetypal, pivotal

zombied my brain
right out.

I feel like a Sarajevo
washing machine

airborne after
a lunchtime explosion.

Which asshole left this

Love Juice Epoxy
on the copy machine?

That Persephone truckstop sorta feed
is more than kind.

You can fuckin' stop it now.

Some proud bitch
of Roman porn

like Jeff Koons.

Flowering mightily
astride Ben Stiller

movies. What is salvation?

Divalproex Goreyana virgins?

Marie Antoinette penalty jaunt,

head lofted at basket?

They shoot! They score!


So many blogs startin' to sound like

that Turkish prison
insurance soundtrack.