Primitive Mentor

Gawker

2 gawker You are toilet head. No, I am toilet head. You are a moose. Your hose is a moose’s soaker hose. It goes into the garden. God’s mad, everyone out! We sniff glue. I have a medium-sized White House in my sperm. We can’t decide who to sue. You are not moose actually. Because your mother wasn’t. Allowances have to be made like when the new recruits line up backs to the big-ass light source. Are they angels or snakes? Sometimes through their raiment see to the monogrammed elastic. Closer, closer. Things get out of hand. An affidavit thrown into a bush. So long ago the bush burns it. Rain helps digestively. A redwing blackbird dies. No one will forget. No, did and shouldn’t. But back to you, the no longer moose. How does it feel to be the biggest marsupial in North America? Like you’re about to be killed? Would your sister’s vaginal opening welcome me? Not that I’m asking. For a talking non-moose, you don’t say much. I like that in chairs too. Everyone else is a fucking liar. Look at their root-hairs, their briefcase full of yum-yums. 30 But here is a parking sticker. It makes you an emeritus. There is so much to love in this world I forgive you for feeling you’re about to die. I cannot be your golden bra. Let’s get drunk and break stuff against each other. Tiny African gods fall out. Let’s form insignia. People will think we’ve been to war together. Parts of the map will make us sniffle. Parades will make us moan. A moan is the moon pulling something out of you. You owe the moon a lot. Payback time. Look at the sea, moaning. Have a havoc. Now is the time for our evacuation. I mean vacation. The big dictionary is our Grand Guignol. I am feeling interstitial. Let’s catch up on our correspondence. Simplicity of structure and lucidity of phrase permit a vastly disparate tonal array. Or something. What other explanation for the rainbow? Forgiveness is the puppy in our parlor. Here comes the snow. Would that it would never end. ...