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[Idi ta]

Don't try to pull the wool over
shiny rows of desert factories
that look so wrong from the plane,
everybody's kettle must fly
off the flame, internationally.

It's up to me to be a smashed toilet
with weeds growing out of it.
Sky King will crash,
apparently a wooly covering
obscures the face of the desert.

A jackrabbit's burrow
is summarily smothered,
flies act like two-way radios.
It's up to me to be a smashed toilet
with weeds growing out of it.

Don't even try to pull
the wool over our ears as if
we're Wool-Hat, blast it!
Tin-roof factories down there
are inverting physical laws,
our pastel sunsets are all wrong.


          

[Stompanoogie]

Oh, my little fuzzy bunny rabbit in a tub fluorescent colored power
tools.
I can see that you have opened up that damned box,
and spilt all my hopey changey buggering hamsters.
Geoff Peterson smells like a flamingo.
Ass mode