Sure I scream
for ice cream,
but custard is
******* delicious.

****.

Sometimes I pop my shoulder out
in defiance of the pain.

Can't wait to set foot
on that electric scooter again.

Being that I was raised Catholic
and knowing what I know now,
if Heaven truly is a real place then
they must **** a lot of kids up there.

"Whomever I was in my past life
must've been a complete and total ******."


                                          - Me in my next life.

That bitter brass crash
punctuating every beat
is jarringly unsettling,
just a toy monkey indeed.

Tell me what it really means.
Tell me what it stands for,
why was such a thing created?
Wound up tightly, set it free.

The zombies will all chase it,
relentless and ever mindlessly.
Just a toy monkey?
More like a bomb, indeed.

This road of indecision
I often find myself on
is paved with countless carcasses
of squirrels and deer aplenty.

They all watch me make my way,
their eyes still brimming
with high beams and headlights.

I can hear the faint echoes
of a thousand car horns
resonating within me.

Pizza?
Wings?
Left?
Right?
I don't know.
You decide.

This bottle's been pressed
from two separate halfs.

As is much in life.

Love.

Teamwork.

We're all just as bound together
as this bitter vessel of liquor.

Just gotta pay less attention
to the seam,

and focus more on
what's inside.