im pissed because my wife always
strives for hyper-strength coffee
so in my tragic-hour mornings i just
run a fresh carafe of water thru
her yesterday's grinds and
im only to win her left over coffee buzz,

which destroys my stomach because
i havent eaten enough and yesterday
i had too many beers,
and i only slept 4 hours
and now im updating formwork shop drawings,
so i go inside to score some
fast-breaking cereal and my
daughters only left me the crumby
and stale rice puffs that no one likes
and the milk is way expired so i marry it all
up in a cracked bowl and gag it down,
but i don't really mind because im
a trained-and-true dirtbag;

and by the way today im wearing hot-pink
cotton long johns that i salvaged from the
lost-and-found at my children's school;
and over those i've some women's jeans that
i got off the dollar rack,
and sometimes, when i get behind in laundry
i'll sneak into my wife's closet and
borrow her panties, not the lace type,
just the briefs though some of them
say victoria secrets across the elastic
keeper-upper band and once i was
wearing some low-riding jeans at work
and a co-werker noticed my panti-brand
and she gave me rub until the day i quit
that gig, and other days i'll go
high-angle logging in all this
fashion disaster,

what with me showing up in my prius
and all my gear in a giant purse,

"where'th the tree, boyths?" i toy,
with a forward shift of my left shoulder.

and these chew-spitting loggers;
all about ready to pin me to the dirt
until they see me wield my magic
high up and the tree tops they waft
down between buildings and high-voltage
like feathers escaping the
cloudy sky bivy where god is
outrageously humping satan in
a secret copulation of homo-diety
proportions...

you all want more information?
absolutely.
we've got too much and mostly useless informations....
all aimed at arousing and manipulating my audience's emotions.