Marble Cake Testo

Born garbage day, warden of the shawarma plate, fork a naked eye, and trade survival tips with tardigrades, ephemera burning where the morning look like haunted marble cake, parkas and pajama pants, I'm part of what don't march-in-place, I'm partial to the closest roving pack of gnashing gums, smoking out the local protein, brokering the rabbit punch, I'm broken, fuck a focus group, fuck your folk, and Toto too, the produce of a pencil-neck who never met a social cue, eye of the archfiend, appetite for alpha dogs, step into the party with a killing jar and shadow box, like "Who invited acid wash?" I'm shopping for the mantelpiece, overkill is catalogued and crammed into banana leafs, polaroids around him like a visit from the vanta black, miniatures in Biggie shirts and minutes that he can't get back, it isn't just gorillas in a camera trap, it triggers, the history pack a little aftermath in every image, look

I should paint a eye on the front door, I should tell time by the sun more, I want a flaming arrow shot into a creeping raft, I'm kidding I just want the cheapest shit you people have

No displayed blazonry, unmistakably mutinous, the mood is disillusionment, shit, even Cindy Lou Who quit, I'm super stupid, future looking tuna fish and suture kit, in route to mute the TV and a view without a boot to lick, bruised at the nucleus and drooling through the bells of war, meet the neighbors when your resume is "skeleton-with-oar", "Ummm, that's really cool your -poodle made the paper", let's keep it at shoes in a elevator, he's a hat and coat, floating with no discernible visage, the villains turn to their homies who mostly turn into crickets, I'm part of a larger ghosting, I go to work with the wizards, who already voted homecoming theme as a burning village, the damn shame campaign pivot when you in the field, thinning blood and newly surfacing disorder, spin the wheel, feeders out to slow the roll, reaper on the protocol, people you confide in will be spotted eating rodents whole

I should hang a skull on the side door, I should drink water from the sky more, I want a thousand lanterns drifting on a summers wind, I'm only joking, y'all can feed me to the fucking pigs

Marshmallows over magma from the mantle has been cancelled, how snappy can you adequately scaffold? Happy canvassing the neighborhoods I'll never take advantage of as patron, as a patient they are plays to be a phantom of, naan under the bandages, examine 'til he vanishes, I don't feel a social pull to show the wolves where grandma lives, I find deliverance from evil either in a sedentary binge, or spring interning with the cemetery winds, no stacked sash or accolades from authority, the backstory gets all back-into-a-corner-y, abuses in the feeding tube, that circle back to eat at you, bacteria that tip the hat, adversity that gleam the cube, it's tit for tat with slippery aristocrats who pity cops, and brilliant rats who find the grit to slip out of the Skinner box, the moat's supposed to keep the rivals out, the calls are coming from inside the house
I should nail boards to the back door, I should feed squirrels from my hand more, I want to meet the maker in a proper suit and shoes, I'm lying, let 'em find the body with the loot removed