wake up, rod

So sick in sebaceous seersucker I stand before your ye: PRONOUNCE an unsimple judgment: BLOW your funnel through my whiskers & I will make a snowman outta your skin flakes with skim milk, watch me construct a monument to your moment, watch the long hard hit to center field, then drop, inches behind the absolut billboard which sparkles in glitter from the tears you shed underneath your desk as you heard that one song play on the radio that one time with the thing & the place, while you sip the suds off your bud-- I’m implanting crystalline bodies in your iris sheaf, son Adapted for sucking I scream at the base of your lip, small persuasive & removable only with proper ecologically friendly cleaning products you haven’t even heard of yet. Fill me proper with names you name, I’ll fuck with your sexual rivalry, I’ll find a house you didn’t know you wanted to live in, hostess you with cute cakes & puffballs & bioluminescent pixie sticks. Pubi...