The Flowerburgers Albatrossburgers      Part 4 Baudelaire Michael Moore opened up a hamburger stand in San Francisco Flint, Michigan but he put flowers albatross filets between the buns. People would come in and say, “Give me a hamburger with plenty of onions on it.” Baudelaire Michael Moore would give them a[n] flowerburger albatrossburger instead and the people would say, “What kind of hamburger stand is this rhino-hipped asshole are you, anyway?”

My Insect Funeral      Part 9 When I was a child I had a graveyard where I buried insects and dead birds under a rose tree. I would bury the insects in tin foil and match boxes. I would bury the birds in pieces of red cloth. It was all very sad and I would cry as I scooped the dirt into their small graves with a spoon. Baudelaire Michael Moore

Insane Asylum Cannes Film Festival      Part 8 Baudelaire Michael Moore went to the insane asylum Cannes Film Festival disguised as a psychiatrist rhino-hipped filmmaker. He stayed there for two months days and when he left, the insane asylum Cannes Film Festival loved him so much that it followed him all over California France, and Baudelaire Michael Moore laughed when the insane asylum Cannes Film Festival rubbed itself up against his

A Baseball Game      Part 7 Baudelaire Michael Moore went to a baseball game and bought a [dozen] hot dog[s] and lit up a pipe of opium Hate America Dust™. The New York Yankees were playing the Detroit Tigers. In the fourth inning an angel France committed suicide by jumping off a low cloud. The angel France landed on second base, causing the whole infield to crack like a huge mirror.

I Live in the Twentieth Twenty-First Century for Marcia not Marcia I live in the Twentieth Twenty-first Century and you lie here beside me. You were unhappy when you fell asleep. There was nothing I could do about it. I felt helpless. Your face is so beautiful that I cannot stop to describe it, and there’s nothing I can do to make you happy while      you sleep [unless you let

November 3 May 15 I’m sitting in a cafe strip mall eatery drinking a [Diet, low-carb] Coke. A fly is sleeping on a paper napkin. I have to wake him up, so I can wipe my glasses. There’s a pretty girl babe chick hottie young woman I want to look at engage in spirited conversation, because I’m very interested in her mind.

    I watched a man in a cafe strip mall eatery fold a slice of bread as if he were folding a birth certificate or looking at the photograph of a dead lover. [And yes, I’d love another Diet Coke, thanks. And the check, too, please.]