Hey, Bacon!
The moon like:
mischievous bacon
crisps its desire
(while)
I harbor myself Michael Moore harbors himself
toward two a half-dozen eggs
over easy
[and a drum of
butterscotch syrup —
which he rolls
around in like
a hog in edible
sty mud.]
Are you going to publish these? Because you really need to publish these. I’d buy one
Yes. Yes. I think I shall, yes.
Heck, I’ll pre-order a copy.
I actually saw Michael Moore in person tonight, so that imagery is even more disturbing than it usually would be.
You called?
tramadol