Threads Flashed Every Time His Label Hustled

the news is there’s a week
the titans of industry invented an ape
and the bandage thing is catching!
projected in the glory of aluminum Zimbabwe
who is Kim Carpathian? and why is she driving
a William Holden in that iron filing sunbonnet
not a Joan Caulfield in some symbiotic airflow
flaunting the arrogance of beef

in other words effaced after curfew
there’s a spout under all our seats
the unilateral hiding guys in mourning
their stogies’ wrappers were inauthentic
same with that pace car Pablo drew at Arlington
but the degenerates loved the tentacle rape!
a record number of bogies back to the cabin to nibble
on some well compensated physique

their strength is buried and says you’re wrong
says the bay was never red
Ruth was pointing to his brain retardation
that isn’t even his arm in the clip!
but every movement has its accreditation
just liking the alfresco doesn’t mean you’re naked
with poncho and afterimage
what that bald spot lobs is a marriageable cousin

the ultra-bitchy mannequin is blocking the driveway
can we get a force in here to collect and intimidate?
a wash and a downgrade wouldn’t hurt
it’s a fickle compulsion breaking a horse’s back
that attitude of defending your skates
my pliers startle too easily for wet work
despite the sword I have for a tail and the germs
they’re innate in the stilts we share our exes on