You Are My Anything

by Travis Jeppesen on August 4, 2020

I can only aspire to be as fried as you were then, at that age. Blacksmiths were coming to visit the gold of your mother-in-law. Another version of Scandinavia admitted from the stereo’s vixen. How you could succeed through the sudden bubbling of life and mortar, big dazed sunglasses wore thin. Reversed men flash dividend eyeballs. Testimonial showroom flourishes the sign of the dilated testicle, venus attacks the squawk. Hello to be alive. My amoeba, destitute pleasure. Perspiring in the breeze. Put that over here. Dusted burghs erupt sense of true freedom ouch. The allotted savior howls. Rainbow falls over on the insect farm all right. We dance up and off to the side in order to elicit holy how. Articulate grandeur my finger smells. Exaggerate black beauty width to go downtime in tune with teen happenstance chaser, stretch glances across lengthened gorge corridor; howls lightly just to splay you, remember my originary reprimander. Down holey and connoted, the spinning bog devours next assertion. Bury it with the fleas, I’m a corrosive container, riders in the seed. Mountaintop reindeer dancing. Jobs blow up winters away from here. Glam countertop provides refuge from lingering question mark avalanche. Who aren’t you smiting. Nectar in the ass sponge baby tonight. Sunburned embargo melts quietly across the muse. Pancake attack on my shoulder. Motorcycles in the stars fat fucker. Lustified in the relapse, where you going now. Take off that skin, I wanna see you go rabbit-style.


From Dicklung & Others, 2009.

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