cleats.

my hands have teeth,
my shoes have cleats,
my butthole has pleats.
wait......
um. yeah.

i got some site-specific footwear
for kickin' it about on the footie pitch.
yuuuuuup.
that's what's up.
running. jumping. kicking. sweating.
in other words- activating.
i doo-doo that.
and now,
i do it with non-slip trainers on my toes, yo.
neighbors,
i'm ushering in a new era of infinite nature...
gregarious loneliness?
haha. go ahead, laugh all you want.
but it's a thing.
i've mastered the gentle art of making enemies,
and as a result, i've moved right along on down to the
coarse course of cultivating coincidental acquaintances-
how hard can it be?
(that's what she said)
well,
there's a great deal of violence of action,
decisive conversational sensationalism,
and incomplete life sentences.
*
guess who got suckered into work today?
did you guess it was me?!
awwwwww, man!
i just wanted to hand-deliver some cupcakey goodness,
and there was a shopful of duders wanting what i do
to happen to them.
i made those moves, y'all.
why?
movie check mastery is essential to the continued
survival of expert activational lifetime nutrient sh!t.
whatever that means.
i get masterful, mutha-uckas.
a master of ceremonies, a master of the universe,
a master and commander, a master blaster,
and a master of his own manifested destiny-
sounds like a jack-off of all trades, almost.
weird.
*
real life.
it's all really happening,
no matter how disbelieving i try to be,
that secret universal plan keeps unfolding.
at least now, with those garish cleats,
i'll have a firmer foothold on the truths and
a stomping-hard kickoff for the consequences;
never quiet, never soft.....7x18