We live in the jungle now, catch flies
and sometimes bagels, snow-shovel
hearts off freeway ramps, first time in three
weeks. This message may not be from whom
it claims to be, honest hard on, lope the loop.
Monday night? Hmm. I mention speaking,
dear gentlemen, to the morons of advertising,
flower pupils couriered to your doorstep.
Nemesis interruptus. But I’m better than
Monday, nay, better than the entire weekend,
black, sleepy, sun like summer, shipping
worldwide. Feel the magic in every
language, pleasuring the ladies and
upsizing your manhood. Horny house
wives getting fucked by other men.
Wishy-washy, balking, not getting
any attention. None. From him.
Zero. None. Nada. Keep your
dignity, double your volume of
ejaculation. Discover the break
through secret. Delete forever.
Delete forever. Delete forever.
