the garbage is moving
itty bitty earthquake
big fat bright sucker
pacify him with treats
my cross is in her pocket
humming in her pants
fine, i’ll be your storybook chick
my inner incubator comes out
it’s all a game of incest
colony collapse disorder
dipping & turning & rubbing & nudging
the disease model
gay boy crackhead doper
trust fund baby
pretty boy
I like burps
you can change; I can’t!
I don’t know if I have the technology in me
a hybrid will make a stronger bee
everlasting funball
stages of culture
he gave me the official grunt
I understand the value of a good backpack
cruising for garbage
steal the lane
you’re more cuspy than me
you’re more crispy than me
I’ve gotten good at living with myself
I am the master of my olfactory
sneezing ice cubes
it’s a distance
I don’t think I can travel anymore
couscous can be allot of fun
a hybrid Jewish wedding; it was so watered down
I wanna be a fruit fly
frozen time concept
genuine lizard boots
I’m in a prose state of mind
my heater works best in the summer
let me know when it’s loaded
What year are you from?
I understand bran
one of the great things I heard on TV today
a whole line of cheese buzz
cookies could be replaced
sandboxes are cloned
designed to isolate your system
just because it’s extruded
doesn’t mean it’s not food
my dog publishes poetry
I wanna be a fruit fly
frozen time concept
genuine lizard boots
i am from
the year
before time
i always get so tummy grumblin
when u say treats
but nothin at all is better
than cookies
last nite I heard a can open it was peaches!
imagine
and ate some anyway
(whatever happened to tuna???)
too far to go
where can I get some of your
woofers words
as needed qd
for digestion