A push-push mechanism in the sense that there’s a spine and one side of the spine has a slit. You know how to give it to this slitty piece of shit. Push & have no skin, no eyes. So falleth all the rain around here, shoved into the gutters and pooled around the trees. SHUT UP in the ditches with bitches. A Funk of Coworkers in triangular formation — playing golf on golf days on hairy grounds with cockroach carts. Parting parts down the middle, Mr. As if to say yes, yes like an arrow shot into the narrowest universe. The pussy universe. Yr last note-to-self stuck to yr urn: What could it possibly say? That this music is too insipid, too sweet to be anyone’s real music. So play ball. Play date. Play Kate. As the pliant rake that rakes the leaves is dragged across my belly. Titania, the sail is swollen with gassy air. There is no one here that is not white and hard and full.