Sunday, April 5, 2015

INTERVIEW WITH A PARTYGOER WHO IMBIBED SEVERAL ALABAMA SLAMMERS.




I know I’ve drunk a lot to had b/c this gala
orig- origineered in What’s it, Mississippi.
Who you lookin’ at, tiger-bird? Did I swill one,
two, three, fourteen slammers? (I summered
in jail the year of nineteen ought to phone my
mama.) Hey! Did you drink one, two, three,
fourteen slammers? Well, then stuff your blow-
blowhole with pasties pastries—just merge!
You’re mean. TIGER BIRD! My name is orgy &
I love myself on Occidental terms. Ewww!
It smells like a box turtle farted-out a box turtle
onto underwear breath. (I’m slappiest if it grains
against the going, if that’d be a higher love.)
My head is looking for the gong that rang it.

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