The Witchita Strangler

The whallonganon tortted along
The entirerty of the cargoleet river
While the hispratcher sprayed it's knees
With vorpe bowols.
Risenads the Intelligent warned of such things.
Retort! Retort!
Midney ghoristky and farmer balbopulous had whip to snatch with that young man, and the party ends when corn husky the third gets back from work and backstratcher the fitfth comes from the shadows and worries the wissel out of Marty the Magnificient. This was all before Randy said loudly "Girls Girls put down your pearls". In any case old slack jaw got in the way of it all and fucked. As the worry warts carried them into the cool blue of a summer breeze through a palm, they began to whistle this song, till the break of dawn:
Mandrake, oh Mandrake, Wake your tremblers, start this quake...
The dropline is funny, and we're cavitate.
No more men to sing it,
Just a hound to wing it,
Floor the gusters and sensuate.
Mandrake, oh Mandrake, break the cars and scrub the slack
The Witchita Stangler and his mom are back.
Huji!
Safarti!
Loingrog!
Stix!
Sisiliche!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Takin' the Time

Takin' the time to do my thing all right
Strut in the lime-light,
Get in a big fight,

Call out my foes
And make them regret
The times that they lied and cheated and yet

When I take a good look in the mirror and see
What can happen to good men who look quite like me
It's easy to see what it means to be free.

A cousin and muskrat a lichen a bust
A tendril of ivy the symbol of lust
These are the things that remain in my mind

You can find me in Omaha-
Still on my grind.

The Fish

Look at an ocean

See the fish

Saying grace and

Swimming for

Swimming’s sake.

Swimming is.

What he knows.

What he does.

What he is.

Look at that fish.

Or is it a man?

Made of bone.

Looks,

I'll Be

Adobe

Carving out a home
In the Desert
Is like
Fornicating with a thousand suns

Whitewashed women
With weathered
Smiles soothing
For four
Hours.

No more
Can't take it.
Taj Mahal never had it so bad.
We will finish when autumn returns.

And to the desert with it's arse agape,
I bid thee farewell, and good luck...
The last storm is always the worst to bear.

Come

Come here. Stand By Me.
Hold me tight, baby, but not too tight.
Kiss me strongly, like fine whiskey.
Freeze,
just watch. Intently, eyes agape
and wrap yourself 'round me.
Statuesquely stand by my side,
and be mine forever.
Picturesque, isn't it all?
What we wrought on mankind.

Come over here, babe.
And we'll watch the world go to hell.
Together, on my balcony.

The World Kinda Blows

Say what you will; curse me
under your mustachioed pistachio breath you old git,
but the world kinda sucks.
I mean, what's so new about this New World?
It's mostly heartless I guess,
but what isn't nowadays? The North half is
pretty mean(ingless), 'Satan's abode' to use
bogus terms.
Southward it's Christland, but it's still
just as mean.
The Mysterious Orient isn't
mysterious anymore.
I'm not touching Africa.
Europe's pretty cool I guess.
Western Europe I mean. They've been doing
crazy shit to each other for a while now.
As far as I'm concerned, this is the world.
And it kinda blows.