FORCE-THE-EDGES

Borelords reign.
In the fathom of the snake.
Set sail supreme, detach polarized gas clods.
More frozen than a worm heart gone nova.
Sent in all directions…

Masochistic pig dog:
“Why have you strayed from your perch?”
Because of the fading of all my appendages,
(Like limp-nodgules)
Regain sword, swollen from its own appearance,
And roared! How this two god my own started to die…
And became the rock that registers on no known radar.

S.U.D.S.
Sudden urchin disposal syndrome.
Lay the cause on a blanket and suckle it dry.
Be prepared for a sudden rush,
(Of morsel slap-fish)
To come vomited and ready!
Now to insert the time factor,
And don’t forget to give it an impish name,
Like “Reality”
Or something with just a bit more hee-hee-helium,
(Sorry)

Only the ring and its owner remained after the blast.
(What happened?)
A likker nok wobble dontel.
Seek ploris under ocean surfs.
Find mites and worms eating through clouds.
Blades slashing yesterday’s airplane,
“Who’s symphonic but the wind?”
A laugh at the clod hoppers now!
Who do they think they sports bar hatred spanked?
A Bloomingdale volcano carriage,
Complete with Dalmatian interior,
(What a sight!)
I heard you the first time, brainwave,
This is a little more than I can bottle and distribute,
So destroy the little red wagon.
Bastards!

Why rest in mud,
When you can float in concrete,
With the help of an air lever?
It’s a pitiless plight,
And no remorse is felt.
You go home feeling satisfied,
Because you never left the ground.
Helium thoughts have never felt this magnified,
So hold my gun while I slap you,
You encrusted snail.

So much for loving your wife’s breath,
She just ate your dignity,
(And that doesn’t sit well with the lesser robot society)
No more woman fleas,
They’ve been sold out of pity to the lowest bidder,
And after coughing up some really old sayings,
The sniper prostitute division is finally headed home,
For some well-needed dirt helpings.

How nice of me to ignore you,
Since attention would warrant some moderate hostility.
How nice of me to bury you,
When the surface is so unsure.
How educated of me to donate your body to science,
When the time was right.
How nice of you to come back as a robot,
When I realized I was mistaken.

Too many times I’ve been accosted by a herd of mimes,
Three hands clapping won’t destroy my arsenal of arsenic this time,
Instead I throw my bed outside,
And watch it grow a head and hide,
Will you, won’t you promise me,
You’ll stick to your own insides?
For when he cometh, cometh down,
With liposuction for a frown,
I hope that frown doth turneth brown,
When he cometh down.
So take this, break this, won’t you please,
Make this, bake this, into cheese,
Not to eat, no, not that kind,
The kind that stabs you from behind,
Certainly you wouldn’t mind,
To make, to bake that kind.
Why yes, I would indeed so mind,
To take, to make, to bake that kind,
The kind that stabs you from behind,
That cheese I would so mind.

Part Two

Literature Index

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