Dungbeetle how I’m pushing shit
Young Croesus, house guts all gilt and guiltless
Silk quilts milk smooth satins, the rood in my eyes during matins
No edits, on the net to be read, you can check it
My cheddar, shooting landlords in the head like The Hill’s only Young Ned
My net not something easily netted, like a Leviathan, size: Texas
Moving bricks, Tetris
Neck wrist like glacier tips, you can’t get this just by glazing dicks
Blazing stars won’t stick long in the firmament, fast as stolen cars
Roadrunnering across the night sky like something rudderless
On our invisibly plotted courses
Divorced from the succouring source.
Alchemisland 
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