coffee and chocolate?

it's called mocha, b!tches.
recognize and respect that sh!t.
telportational delights?
check 'em:

yuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuup.
fancy pie is good for you.
mini-baby choco-chips AND sprankles.
i doo-doo those twice-as-good-type jauns.
homemade crust?
i can't believe you even had to ask, A*hole.
that's eleventh-level bake shop futurism.
coffee, chocolate, more chocolate, a little cocoa,
and then some more chocolate, just to make sure.
relax, neighbors-
it's deactivated with decaffeination, too.
i'm not tryin' to never ever sleep, y'know.
and i'm not trying to hurt myself or others,
i just want some sweets to compliment my bitterness.
word up.
***********
the fat lady is audibly carrying a tune, kids.
y'know what i mean?
i think it's a love song, too.
a manatee-sized mermaid
with a four-alarm siren-song.
-
luring me like a wrecker to a wretch,
i can't refuse, i am refuse.
come crash on my teeming shores;
circles collapse in on themselves;
rings of smoke, blown through and apart-
giving up the ghost,
the spirit road goes down,
memory lain...to rest.
-
awwwww, man!
that is so expert,
and so not expert.
real life, mutha-F*ers.
the hardest styles in the gentlest whispers.
i write words.
i right words.
i rarely write the right words.
it's all really happening;
never quiet, never soft.....