I once saw cadaver dogs searching the back sides of my eyelids. They were highly trained, but pooped out the back end. They died when there was no life in them. They were buried.
Sometimes when I bow my head and pray to mankind, I can feel his limpnipotence emanating from the flesh of my tailbone and glowing out the top of my head. I usually break out into pop hymns about whores. I feel cool complacence in knowing everything and I high five the mirror because I will never die. Straight up, I am awesome and I buy cars to ride the tails of other awesomes that have broughtten their cars, but then I poop out my back end and when there is no life in me I die. I am buried.
It wasn’t that long ago that I felt very strongly about something and I felt others should feel the same strongly about that same something and picked up some boss ponies and front row hecklers to hold signs and bother people until they liked my signs. Then I pooped out of my back end and realized I should probably just start a website talking about the great big pluses of my plight–instead of being mean and feeling deep down inside like I was the best and better than even myself, who was crowned king dumpty of even everything in the sky and beyond it forever. Then they buried me when I died.
Last Saturday someone was hip hip hip hip hip hip hip hip hip hip hip hip hip hip hip hip hipping me the wrong way–like in the tailbone or something–and when I awesomed his car at the red lights he mix emotioned me with poison and strawberries. I was like, “Meff you stingin’ sweetface. You don’t know mister blister. My shoes are not even six days old!” Then he just check check checked out my kicks and we’re like buds now when we poop out the back end, burying each other when we died.
Then I opened my eyes and
Freakin’ out because
Zombies on the parameter
and I’m praying to the mankind who
Greasy teeth smiles and
Video surveillance caught
Slopping posterior when
Stored all these plethoras of data and knowledge and succumbed to
Diamonds and yelling at people and
Pointing shiny fingers like
Big silly anuses with tails
Hehawwing over frankfurters and
And this great big world like
Zipped bowling bag and shoved in a closet
Minuscule dust fibers and
Death and bury
Ingesting like kings
But scat like squirming vermin
Walled and in between the choicest of dead things
Chance the answer