Ask Later on Tuesday

                 I breathe wide open. My lungs are air vents. My rib cage is a busted open birdcage in the old lion's cage in the abandoned zoo in this once great city and now greatest city in this okay galaxy. Marion berries bleed in your cheeks. On the surface, butter slips like fake pancake flipping drips. Juice as high as a moon. Ask Marion, watch out for a better blue azure tiny beautiful eggs roll out of brown red and gold hens, free to roam around the house, although no one gets inside. Listless Abercrombie toaster waffles walk through a mall in dead winter as the atmosphere closes in on the helpless planet.
                  Hooray, hurrah, lights up his face, he's four years old today! Sprinkly twinkly heroic Bombay. Ask me about me later, I work, toadstools and Walmart, Ask me later, Where I am going, It is all forgotten, thus forgiven by default. Two sleds beg for more snow to cover their AstroTurf. Nothing in your stomach changes something in your brain.
                  About an hour later suits tangle glue feet smosh Elven silver puppies try to be noble and breed silky wormy desk monkeys look at scribble window plates and fires free pork taste tickle bugs run out forward grounded fault burst with opiate opaque shimmer flower tremble trample crumble demolish sinewy baked glazed frost porcupine fingertip auburn Felicia fuschia bramble grey dry dust pop cycle eucalyptus brazier frowned static Beluga scientist veiny soccer pattern on a paternal weakness slow tumor want a new brother bulbous face wishy washy Eskimow target lawn favor turn every other black colour seen and not understood violent questions purge through a vacuum straw and wait about a few million more hours to Ask.