Mike Lindell's Burlap Prophylactic

The people have been interested in fantasy and intricate xenophobia. Of all their questions, the main one is what will happen when humans on the other side of the galaxy will be swept away by their own disobedience. When I was growing up in St. Croix, U. S. Virgin Islands, I heard several stories about the little creatures called liars.

Dip Spikes

William Shakespeare may well have been the first person to steal the power of the dragon disguised as a man who is impossible to trust. With the help of a river witch named Deirdre, he plagued the sorcerers in Alabama and in Utah, where the banshee assassinated a bibliophile.

An Exultation of Property

A dangerous animal who is in the garden pond turns himself purple. Though he causes her no end of problems and embarrassment, the mistress is not quite willing to wear a muzzle.

A talented footballer steals special chocolates and baby teeth. He looks adorable but he has his own special way of injuring himself with dripping paint. He eats Bank Robbers!

The Flaky Macho Guy Cruises

Caboodle, the big poodle, wants nothing from a new family but to be transported through a door between worlds as her sexual desires take control of her life. A Texas girl at heart, he is approached by a secret husband and finds herself caught in the middle of strife within the Society of Children’s Book Writers. She is forced to adopt a man who will show her pleasures she never imagined and who wants to live a normal life with several adopted animals. Tonight she will experience surprising rewards.

Sauce of Aura

My town is a friendly place. I get food and a lot of positive physical contact. A lady at the auto body shop says my hair is like oily feathers. A tree surgeon says I have healthy phloem and won't explain exactly what he means by that.

A puckered old gentleman calls me "sweet ham" and says that when he's agitated, he soothes himself by imagining my pillowy skin pierced by something sharp and oozing sweet tar. My little body in its current swollen and moistened form delights people.

Microsuede Reptile and Immersion into Senility

I danced with father and mother until I drowned. My breathing time behind me, I became stronger, with good claws to mutilate the Earth and fashion a fine underground lair.

I shelter my morality and language here to make school lose its musk. What you may see is just what it is, am excellent buried pickup truck cell.

When doctor fell asleep on me I was only a nude guy without a single pixel of clothing to my name. I lashed myself to him and eventually our similar penises fused umbilically.

Moving and speaking spiky ivy grows thick behind the lab. We have an entirely valid relationship as a single consolidated person.

At yellow creek, the nudes we sell to cruel guys in prehistoric blazers give us a sense of bravado. Their purchases earn them points which they can redeem for music or cash.

Cephalic Embrace

In the mask they offered us a chance to resign. I've never eaten and I was inclined to accept the offer. So I did.

Next, I bought a large bag of drugs from my former step-father (as an aside, I wish there was a less awkward way to refer to a step-father your proud and willful mother divorced). It was time to make plans for oblivion.

The orcs on their leashes at the leg meat cafe sounded like mesh rash, their friendship dissected and laid out like items on deep discount. Jean said she would have to edit our green simulations of ecstasy. I concurred.

Still, I wait

I Hear the Faucet Song

My family lived for corrugated lipids and weak gelatin. We awakened to the inhospitable presence of medicine, one by one until we each possessed our own distinct odor.

Eventually the worship ritual felt rather self-reflexive, a form of respect paid to the memory of a permanent flattery rather than to the horror of inertia.

None of these Hams are Fine

Crispy golf lady feeds lip noodles through a surprisingly bouyant plastic appliance that turns them into moist wads. Lip meat makes great jewelry for a stranger's husband or, if it's mushed together into a large enough lump and bronzed, a unique paperweight.

When she finishes the wads she tosses the appliance into a water hazard and indeed it floats.

Hamper on the Deck

Spirited, frisky, flirty, and polished to a blinding sheen, this is my mother. My mother! She pounds on her kettle with a heavy oblong utensil, her hands stained black with soot from the fire she pulled it from.

I am punctured by the ancient island spirit as the miniscule orbs in my blood swell and vibrate and the sound attracts someone: my father. My father!

He extracts a gleaming silver needle from his fake hollow ass cheek and uses it to write music notation on my chest. A super football jock but also a nerd, he possesses the harsh guttural voice of a sulphur stork.

Her Adhesion and Ours

Brave undressed people in sealed bags flit around wetlands eating eyes. They experience a eureka moment when they pick up a few knotted ornaments in the puddles. When they toss these things they found into the proper receptacle, they hear a sexy kind of guitar sound, like damaging cosmic radiation.

Now scientists say the people could have been behind a vast array of colourful atmospheric changes.

Won't Wish for a Block Patty

Lose the buff lady pants and then we will talk. Drop that huffy huff persona if u want to be my perfect friend. I can see ur smashed up soul gas inside ur skull pockets and I actually do like what it looks like but unless u stop behaving like a little bit of a weird worm I don't even think I'll bother doing the thing I wanna do.

I would take a big pump and suck the soul gas from ur bony globe and huff it into my lungs to feel the prickly purchase of ur ghost mouth inside me. U can't probably figure out how to escape my organs.

Tilt Away From the Blade

Yoga legs stacked too tall wobble and hum across from the municipal complex. Threatened, strawberry jam guys lope in the new medieval fashion. Potential coital participants color themselves duly impressed.

A flat gray guy from Boise grips tight the loosely baroque garments his charming papa brought back from a land full of spirit orbs. Stripped and sandblasted bone leg men smear squished lipstick on their lovely bods until they are allowed to do the City Squid Dance. 

A disaster inside the municipal complex interrupts the good times and behind their masks the goofy guys trickle.

Cure Your Garments

As soon as father dies, we will gather with the rest of our seven siblings to perform a song he wrote. None of us has the complete musical notation, only fragments sealed in coded cylinders held as pendants on our chests. 

The lyrics will be conveyed during the reading of the last will and testament. The lawyer, a kind-eyed woman of Portuguese descent with a taste for leather and gleaming hubcaps, will mostly not cry during the affair. The throbby luminance of a bleeding plastic gum steak will finally meet us, eye to eye and reeking of hubris. 

The Backwards Nozzle

Guilty of craven acts of servile leisure, I reduce myself to a sickly cream. A bruise on my hot curvy ass reminds me of a cranky lover. And a swirling cursive name on one of my juicy natural titties reminds me of the kindness of kinfolk.

I find myself a new name. Now something in me trembles. I am literally foam. 

Six Hissy Fits Before the Soap Release

Gush and fume in a drawer. 

Hunt for a few bronze wafers in a long silent romance. 

When the charred hair whispers, slip away from your relations and teach yourself fake spells from a self-published fantasy novel. 

Then soak your own brain in ostrich egg albumen and watch your black eyelids flutter to the carerra marble countertop in this contemporary kitchen.

Clustered Dashboards

Striped papers indicate a habitual grip on actual pathogens. Stinking oily banisters indicate a cessation of fabric mergers. Everything else is quite simply, prismatic metallurgy.

Free and twitching, my inheritance is slipping between some other guys lips.

Mesh Prep Liquors

Ochre fingers ask what the humming dials of the garment containment unit indicate. Their peculiarities hold us rapt.

Plucked like dripping cuffs of blossom tops or unintended corduroy spikes, the therapist, his spouse, and their lusty interlocutor surround themselves and each other with loose fumes.

Loose fumes asking for words and words evaporating in the miniature cavity. Not stopping anytime soon, I'm afraid.

Agreed on Fluorescence

Father reconstructed the conical structure, complete with the jaw-shaped indentation in the floor. Basically he remembered all of the features and created it in a fashion that we feel possesses some measure of fidelity. His resources are considerable so it's not surprising, what he's done. I guess that pretty much the way we justify our endorsement is that we respect hard work and the will to complete a complicated task.

The ultimate tribute will be a book of high-resolution photography. Exterior, interior, schematic diagrams: all celebrating in sensual colour the nature of the conical structure that both terrorizes and comforts us. The surprising hexagonal tiles, the fish scales hung on minute threads of equine follicles, the thing with the mammal inside. All of this adds up to a portrait of a man seen through a mirrored funnel. Occasionally cannibalistic, the gathered siblings compliment each other in earthy pastels.

Clawed Eclairs

There's a net made of guitar strings in the yard. There's a lot of bent staples that were pulled out of some city reports. There's also a bogus book of sheet music that isn't an heirloom. In blue phones, eyes closed, I can actually feel the hair getting longer in my face.