Kneeling in the soft carcinogens of your cellophane vase,
I shall vacuum up your up your svelte chowder
As Pab’s mom sticks jelly to her mace
“I am Chinese, I am, I am,” says she, louder and louder.
Your dribbling nose paste nails my heart to thine.
“Well Doctor, it seems he’s choking to death on your own patella.”
“Apply salt lick to injured area and whine
‘I’m just a turd-bird with salmonella!'”
“Do not divorce my loaf, sell it to the birds.”
Sotto voce, sotto voce, adagio and pulsing dong
To whet my lyre and sing pepper ear wax turds.
sing: “Weepy weepy Love Jones, birdaloupe Bong Bong.”
“Only love is capable of grating you a happy life.”
Who ate all the blistex? Is that your paring knife?