Of a subtler ilk, this deer wagon
waxes transparent when I lick its foliage
in a counterclockwise fashion.

Intriguing twist: Trick Smith Limited,
world-renowned jackalope dealer, now beckons
[VALUED CUSTOMER] to become an exclusive member
of its carnage-related festivities!*
*Offer not valid in lower Nevada
or the Lesser Antilles.

The topic of pencil shaving trefoils
has popped to the forefront of today’s
peculiar poser posse club meeting,
guaranteeing a spirited debate
unlike any other heretofore witnessed.

Cumin digestion may hurt the back,
particularly when a wily attack dog
headbutts you, unawares, from behind
right after you’ve finished a serving
of your regionally-famous rabbit stew.


Originally posted on 10/10/11,
entitled #34

Bandwagon Antics

In light of this glut of well-delivered monologues here tonight, I’m convinced that we humans–because I’m definitely a human, don’t go running around and telling your friends otherwise–quite possibly have a fighting chance in this thing we call life amongst the celestial bodies (well, at least that’s what I call it). While by no means a guarantee, I can certainly exclaim that creativity should–dare I say must–eventually overtake the box-in-box mentality that has, thus far, led to the perpetuation of flocking masses of mundanity, sometimes riled to the point of stampeding.

Those of us who can visualize the ideal representation of creative humanity will be sick and tired of bowing down to tyrannical individuals who would prefer to destroy rather than glorify the artistic inspiration leading to craft (for craft’s sake). In the eyes of the inscrutable free-market economist, if something that requires a great deal of skill also happens to net you a tidy profit, then it will obviously be quite desirable. In the face of such bandwagon antics, it takes the uncompromising individual to declare “I am going to do this because I love it, no matter how minute the level of compensation.”


Delirium be me middle name, aye.
Ye may also call me the grossest,
most indefatigable shroom tripper,
spawned from the native
egalitarian egret something or other
in combination with a spokesperson
for our most advanced bleach formula,
now carcinogen-free!*

*New carcinogens are being discovered every day, and we cannot guarantee your safety beyond the scientific accomplishments hitherto hailed as gospel among most legitimate collectives of scientists. Please keep this information in mind when shopping around for your next purchase of laundry detergent, particularly when using cash, debit or any other payment method that typically doesn’t involve built-in spending incentive programs.


What’s the plan of attack here if we wish not to attack anyone? Can we still call it a plan of attack? We won’t even be attacking a concept or a goal, violence in all forms is laughable. On that front, I’m surprised I haven’t seen a circus where the clowns just attack each other to appease the masses of demanding attendees. There are probably circuses just like that in the big ol’ world, I just haven’t seen any of them. In fact, I haven’t seen a circus at all in the past 14 years. I haven’t been purposely avoiding them, it’s just easy to choose not to frequent that type of business if the topic’s never broached by, say, a whimsical uncle who just flew into town from Tegucigalpa, looking to blow off some steam with popcorn and clown-on-clown violence during an evening he’ll come to forget after a year or two. Wayward uncle Billy would enjoy three robust cigars before night’s end as he pines for the days before reality television, sight gag after sight gag coming to fruition before our eyes. The roughhousing clowns would visibly retain their composure with the latest sweatproof makeup, advertised to last twelve hours under even the hottest spotlights, a 100% money back guarantee if not completely satisfied.

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