WHEN STARSKY AND HUTCH HI FIVE EDITH BUNKER

Faster than a toothpick piercing Justin Volpe's mole,
Justification lessened by a mime stuck in peanut butter.
A tree grows in Brooklyn, 
Covered with cat piss,
Frustrated by an inability to mount the Williamsburg bridge,
Stuck in your hip life of sitting on the L,
Enjoy it before Merrill Lynch buys your little hole.

Vertical telekinetic sex, 
Entire bodies bounced off one another by Carrie,
Megamaniacal plots to drown your inadequacies in pig's blood.

Memories of sterile lovers,
Fields of fertility unplowed in the night.
Versions of posterior beauty powdered pale in the moonlight.

The revolutionaries have gone dancing,
Throwing their bodies into a vortex of ecstasy,
Escape from the grip of a mind's struggle.
I'm a muggle and I 'm proud that I can juggle your boobies,
Upside down doobies burn the lips of a fraud,
Like when Star sky and Hutch hi five Edith Bunker.

Day spent with the 'rents turn into automatic degeneration,
Sunglasses can hide the shopping bags under your eyes,
The blood dripping in your nose,
The new vein bulging out of your temple.

Pride felt in inventing new ways to escape,
To rape the days of meaning,
Full of haze you'll need caffeining.
People are starving in Ethiopia so you better eat your own poopie.

{POETRY}