Holler level glass until you’re hard of hearing enough to let your boobs burst into green sand.
Do your worst: I threw my whole head up in spirit this morning.
It’s hard to say which earnest feats lie under our Hawaiian shirts.
Were I honest, smart I’d be a Chicagoan now.
'Stead I’m palming the boils on the back of a Nantasket leopard salesman in a mask.
His sotto voce crimes go unjurored.

Break Into a Thief’s Home, Steal Nothing.

A famous lion smiled blacking lines out of his notebook in Boulder.
I knew that was illegal.
You cross out words like that while the humorless go without anything to say in Hadley, Massachusetts.
You climb in back with me while Anne drives up front alone, rolling the window down.

Hush Not My Tantric Malfeasance, Your Crimes Are on Your Pants.

When he got down, Barabas made a beautiful injun sit on his leg, she’d put rouge on her boobs.
Don’t say I warned you ‘cause I didn’t he said and poked her neck with spoon.
Some phenoms shouldn’t go unJudased:
those what lean on Rosencrantzian looks and don’t know when to leave failed enough asleep.

Issue #1