little ass maniacs never know

how to regulate formations.

liberating the amassed energy

both subtle and gross. they say

the swampy look is already back,

and with a heavy list to part:

cultivating informers,

scenic freaks,

gluts of dry guppies,

and all the "hush your mouths!"

 

in my eyes, i go to lengths for you, Elana.

freezing your wiggle off,

still your tiny rocky core is ruched.

​

cures you whisper make no sense.

 

flattop fronds,

and kidstable-stricken hall of famers.

bloody guts and garters. 

 

vegetal subroutines borned

dolphin-smooth jocks,

and whammy'd the utmost.

 

kindly i caper.

something's dissolved.

phase to phase, daze for days.

do you feel like dessert yet?

whatever floats your boat is drowning me.