Last but not lost, lest lust’s not in the list ring my headphones, see’f I’m here. Come on! Yeah! Come on! Give me a clap, quick: slap my butt, then call me a slut (for twelve o’clock, sharp), I’ll be waiting in my Jacuzzi. Les flèches fufusent, gin-fizzent, zozotent, vivolent, babillent, babiolent, zoziolent entre les arbres – pas très haut –, le tireur d’élite de notre tribu nous esbroufe à nouveau, il embroche un jaguar, deux chimpanzés et trois papillons d’un coup. Roughly speaking if I might, my eye popped out at that moment, I don’t know how they made me eat my spin all the way down but I feel quite low now, I’m not that bendable; I’m not that strong either, I’ve got a spinach ache, it’s like a swamp inside and it’s most likely going to break out of my stomach very soon; greenish-brownish-yellowish floods with, hopefully, a bit of blood. Hello darling, how was work, today? Here are your slippers. Turn off your beeper, please, relax, there’s some strip-poker on TV. Would you care for a spoon of crème de la crème, with a smooth moon on top?
The air is thick and slow, soothing and peaceful in a phony way. Bothersome, like a cat in heat, the only decipherer, code breaker, or poet left’s on your right, smoking birds somewhere in between the ear and the shoulder of the side I just mentioned, opposite to the heart, he’s lost in translation, a tidal wave very slowly washes his brains out. Hit him low! … Don’t turn your head, though, son, stop picking your nose, don’t point your finger at him, it’s not polite. Now what are you babbling about again? Quit chewing that gum, will you? I’ll cow you, mister! Tttsss! Look at what you’ve done, you stabbed me in the back with a dagger. Well… you’d better go, really, for I must say you are making me feel a littlish bit uncomfortable.
