You're an
intergalactic
goblin
overlord,
marinating
your enemies
deeply
in soy sauce
before
disentangling
their central
arguments
with one hand,
and that's just
for breakfast,
but you make me
feel
all kinds of things,
we should
take a
long walk,
but why is
the garden
at the end
of the universe
closed
on a Sunday,
it's the only day
in a light year
that I have
a couple of hours
off,
the radiating
magnetic field
from your heart
is 5000 times
stronger
than the one
emanating
from your
brain,
you can
check it up,
and for once
I'm willing
to believe it,
what am I
trying to say,
bring back
the dollar menu,
and the seductive
swiftness
when you think
deeply
with your
enthralling
eyes,
things like that
can make anyone
believe,
it's those small things,
the big ones,
and the ones
in between,
a Bic Mac
with small fries,
you should
try it,
I climbed up
the wuthering
mountain top,
you can
call it a height,
or a huthering weight,
(I made up that word)
only to
find out
there was a
mirror there,
and most things
that I want
to do
takes more
than a
lifetime
to do,
I want to
get to know you
slowly
over a
thousand years,
so put on your
mittens,
intermittently,
cause this is
gonna
take a while,
I was dumb enough
to think
that the garden,
you know where,
would change
the balance
of my
bank account
at the end
of the month,
but I was
at least
smart enough
to realize
who you were
beneath the mask,
if you can't
see me
at my best,
then you can't
see me
at my worst,
so I'll keep
the mask on,
thank you
very much,
I used to
cut my beard
with Occam's razor,
but now I'm
taking off
my shirt
in a
spiritual manner
and she told me
that she could
notice
the difference,
so load your rifle
with the unveiling
bullets
that perform
psychostasia
and shoot them
relentlessly
in the direction
of the sophmore
philosophy
students,
as they're sitting
self-righteously
behind their
fancy laptops,
sweep up
the residue
of brain matter,
bake it into
a dough,
throw a pizza night
and call it
a day,
it's just a
low-budget
cosmic slapstick
dubbed
to German
and screened
as a slow
matinee
while it's raining
on the streets
of Kreuzberg,
just like
teeth flossing
rhymes with
girlbossing,
all kinds of things
like Jar Jar Binks,
have you heard
ride into the sun,
have you heard
ride into the sun,
have you heard
ride into the sun
by The Velvet
Underground?