carving brain grooves.
Memories are emotional tunnels
and tomorrow is sandstone
that cracks my teeth.
My shark soul sheds teeth and
must keep burrowing to breathe
and blow out candles. Amen.
Dirt tastes whole and while
burrowing I can’t speak better to
experiment with all the varieties
of getting choked up.
Fi fi fi khe he he khe St.
Uh hu hu kha Ave
Khe khe hep hep ha Blvd.
Mhmm mhmm mmm Parkway
Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhh Hwy,
are memory lanes. So call me
Maw Maw and had me a napkin
or maybe a fork. Jesus Christ!
Yum!
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