Tongue of the wrong one.

The crick cracked

sidewalk leading to the giant

neon god of commercial


It glares in heat

to cling

to streets of forbidden greatness

let out of the brain in garbled sounds of CHRISTmas

now led by the sled of the FAT man

Slurps of eggnog

left on the corners of lips

gathering to make

milk webs as they talk of schemes and dreams of weight loss

to get normal so get this shit right

fit into the ever changing puzzle made for all…hold

the tongue of the wrong one, with a bottle dressed in paper and a hand out.


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