Hey guy, here's the fire to hide from, with a head cloud
and system of palladium, an earful of candid brass
the lungs of a master stroke of mind
cataloguing flatulent ovations
To orate, there's a presentation coming, with wry nerves
and careless study, goldenrod maladies shun fast
held expectorant dips in travesties
beleaguered by fellated trains
Twins on see-saws of low hunger bogs, tire swings
taut and spinning, the squeak of the wheel well
and tired rope, event horizon tweaked
whinnying dwale, bibliolatry
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