Flex Your Ducts


Your stylish alien teacup,

glistening off the chimney.


This decade's bloodstream,

gateway to my Darwinian nervous dyslexia.


Goldie cries for tennis balls

a breezy frothy spheroid polynomial in complexion

and cuddly.


I windsurf wearing a muzzle,

it's egalitarian and judgmental.

I can't brainstorm, I can only drool and

contractually improvise (bite).