Space the Johnny Bill Landscaping Company,
we have no need for such expenditures
at this time anyway. Just leave them
on the curb, someone will pick them up eventually.
Help me out with this leather one,
they’re surprisingly slick. There,
up on the bed (queen size).
Thanks, let me buy you a deer.
Twittering smitters
done tapped out
onto my tarmac
while I had
the marbles cooling
and the pink daffodils
yearning for something
like the Sun (though
the Moon would
have to suffice).
They’re just sitting there
like a bunch of lawn
ornaments, like I’m supposed
to gawp at them and guffaw
in awe. You can forget it,
I won’t even
let them know
that I know
they’re here.
Attention hogs.
The esophagus is lined
with grape gelatin dessert,
not without floating grapes.
We need to eat our way
down to the stomach,
which is a bubbling lime concoction.
Once there, we’ll split up
into quadrants and begin our work.
I’ll take southwest, you three
duke it out amongst yourselves.
By the end of the journey,
we will have told
a million and one stories
about how old Grant Moon conquered
the people of the Moon
and other such exploits.
Oh, what a grand old time
it will have been.
Come to think of it,
we will want to have packed
some peanut butter sandwiches.
I will return having been embarrassed
because I forgot to pack them
even though I’d remembered
to make them.
Whatever means you have
to get the pigeon
on the wing
of the Eiffel Tower’s
little niece’s sweater’s shoulder,
please act appropriately and immediately.
You have to understand the pressure
we’re under here. I can’t bring myself
to breathe any deeper
than the treasure cabin
below my backseat
(by the antique coin collection
I hide in the wheel well).
How do you get that stuff?
You know, the stuff that oozes
from the drums of the insipid
self-forgetters. Am I speaking
your language? Please nod if you
can understand me. Okay, are you
able to hear me at all? Are you
even looking at me? Goodness,
we’re in quite the pickle here.
Well, just let me know if you
can acknowledge me in any way.
No sign at all, this is great.
All right, so just ignore me
and I’ll be on my way.
Hallowed is the hall
where the fork dropped
and twanged under
the cylindrical sponge
that the mixed media students
decided to put together
as an homage to bizarro Spongebob,
their lovable school mascot.
He was concocted as a way
to avoid copyright infringement
while also making an ironic statement
about how our schools have no funding.
WHARVED 