Monday, August 03, 2026

 I rode the thirsty so thirsty stallion

Black as the night
Thru glaciers and brambles 
I rode the stallion
And here I was 
Not anymore here is gone
There is no here here
That makes no sense
Go buy a dictionary 
And look something up
Before I chop your head off
Or make bacon and eggs
And English muffins 
And bury you in the basement