How can she be okay? She’s vibrating out of this fucking universe!!
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“In the vein of ‘Physician, heal thyself!’ I wonder, how many other disciplines could so do? To the author: “Scribe thy self!” Well, they call it autobiography, So there’s nothing new Then here’s the navigator- “Guide thyself!” Aye, and who better than they to? Or to the performer, “Play thyself!” Sure, perhaps no other could play so true And to the artist, “Show thyself!” Self-portrait or sculpture’s done too Ah! But to the warrior “Conquer thyself!” No greater task could any prove…”
— (Mundane mental musings
Writ to ease the study-strained brain)
To the courier; “Deliver thyself!” But as so hard a task for mortal man to undertake.
To the chef: “Cook thyself” hmm, perhaps if they’ve a nearby sauna in their break.
To the policeman: “police thyself!” Counsel we would all do well to heed.
To the fool: “Entertain thyself!” This something that is always in need.
Been hearing a lot about the Seedy Sea lately.
And there’s been a spate of Owl Possessions going on. People on TV start spontaneously going “Hoo! Hoo!”
Getting your haircut is fun because the clumps of hair dance down my shoulders like little, happy spiders.
Punctuate your conversation with the odd uppercut; liven up your conversation about the weather by really making it rain.
“It’s been a lovely life, there’s more than love in life.”
— From a song someone was singing in my dream
In my dream, I was at a McDonalds knock off and the chap behind the counter said, “You want EYES with that?” and then began shovelling fried eyes into a little container with a W on it. And he had big, massive Christopher Lloyd in Who Framed Roger Rabbit Eyes.
To be honest, I just made that up, but hey ho.
Twirling like a gyro, heading towards my mouth.
Pointy like a biro, the hunger way down south.
My belly boasts an appetite, that healthy food can’t beat:
pitta bread and french fries and various kinds of meat.
A pear, a pear,
a pear for my bear.
Neither apple nor banana
or godsent heavenhence desert mana.
The only fruit my bear will eat
that keeps his disposition sweet.
It was then that she realized the truth. She bolted out the door and drove straight to the supermarket.
“They’re on sale!” she yelled out of her car window to shocked pedestrians.
“They’re on sale!” she yelled to fellow drivers when she pulled up at the traffic lights.
“They’re on sale!” she yelled as she screeched to a halt in the supermarket parking lot.
“They’re on sale” she yelled, shopping cart jittering this way and that as she raced down the aisles.
“They’re on sale!” she yelled, genuflecting before the towering display of cheese wheels.
“They’re on sale!” she yelled to the cashier, who recoiled with fear in her eyes.
“They’re on sale!” she yelled as she slammed them down on the kitchen table.
“They’re on sale!” she yelled as
she shoved hunks of it into her mouth,
eyes streaming with tears.
“They’re on sale,” she mumbled to herself, as she crawled to the couch on all fours.
“They’re on sale,” she said to no-one in particular, as you she stared up at the ceiling, hand resting on her bloated belly.
“They’re….on…,” she said, as her eyes drifted shut and she began to snore.