Mr. Mommer pants,


     Twist the full frontal Nelson,   yea like that pilgrim hunter...


                   Oh, no eye contact?



Weasel blister?    Sweet home arabiana, hicks with chicks, sawdust arm teeth


Have a glass of variables, 

                  down to the bottom of the hill that hides in your breastbone


Long strong drink of the supervision, under piles of clay and moisture

                    Along for the ride and yep,
you can keep playing that game mister human

Anatomy in dotted lines, inside your fortune telling mind

Sleepy p p,  a nap to replace the question, a napsack full of all you've collected


SACKED!!!!   and put into folders molding over for winter dinner
Stints of stunts and whoa...... 7 years. I haven't realized this shit in 7 years?


Hand over hand of the sweetest gravy your grandest parent ever projected..

Sops up the towells before the get wet,  ouch my fantasy


Get Real

become as real as possible



that could be pretty crazy


Imagine it


Own it


it belongs to all of us


Free it


Shake and baste this freezer burn