When they released me from the nervous hospital
I booked passage on a brigantine of mysterious origin
bound for Alaska with a crew of bacterium contagions
spreading infection/the rapid clutch of heart attacks
the fat man has gone down/I repeat/fat man down!!
military license to disassemble the body of a civilian
by the bytes and smithereens/confetti of the fast track
proprietary blend of contemporaneous education
and experience that owns his shit/with such pride
an angle I'd consider involves wolves. Trick's-bitch.
Had nothing to do with sailing or psychiatry, asides.
Don't care for extremes of climate and lightness, valerian.
Neigh! fish lips, horse gums, dolphin teeth, gold grill--
you call it a grill? I call it a comeback. Nice yardage!
Hands are too small to hold and throw the ball well.
Legs are there but broken, weakened, olden. And lo,
the quality of a reasonable forgery was not afforded
a quantifiable change in the minutiae of marginalia
and all the crooked pickets make a sorry-looking fence.
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