Life Keeps Jumping Around

 

            There are Paragraphs and chariots.  Sea those Pairs of graphs and charcoal nets?  I jumped over a Pure Horse Shaft with his Sheared Nest.  I don’t know how I am going to get out of this shadow but his filter is not as good as my cyclone.  Circle here and side show there, hear a thigh bone, wear a spy phone, ever spare a slide home?  Are we being Polarized or, as usual, hearing Peculiar lies?

            My friend’s friends asked me “Are you in your Wonder Years?  Or is it Christmas in your One Deer Years?”  I said, “I would never wonder why You Sneer.  That is sure a One Near Speer.”  I am always Wasting in that Rocket’s Red Hair who makes Bums Worst with His Stare.  He went Poof through his blight while he lags still back there.

            My Last Master was in the List of Misters but he sure was a lot Less of a Minister doing all his Lumping Monitor with which made him a Loon Monster.  He always sold cures that Tingle Tangle Tongues as he Goes biting merrily at dogs.  He said, “Thanks to me, You may become a wolfman.  And That is why I’d never tell.”

            But I am not a wolfman.  I did not grow fur and I do not have sharpened teeth!  I am a Toad!  I started out being a Toadlet.  Following a heavy rain, I emerged.  And because of Me that was not an Emergency!

            Since I had sunk in the sink, I just sighted a spat where the Sphynx does stink.  Spink me?  Skink you!  We all belong in the Mafia Zoo.  Can I let us enter derangement with you?  You can toot too!

            If you wonder about brooks, you are one deer fool.  It’s like you wander about crooks. Boy, you sure are living in a Cell.  If your winter is a nook, you are slippery still.  If you drank what you shook your martini glass is no longer full.

            I guess I just have to envelope my developed letters once I A Bee See them.  Due You See them Two?

            I am a toad who had made friends with a frog.  Our toad’s usual work day is doing the digging  into the rocks in the earth to avail to our fellow toads rock crystals that contain minerals that are good and needed for all of us.  Every few days I take a break and I swim in this near stream to relax and clean up.  On my way to and from the moving water, I began constantly bumping into and passing by a frog whose own workday constants consisted of filling bags of cellular edibles that entered this stream from human sewage systems.  I sure  liked taking a break by climbing dry ant piles and crevassed land forms.  After three months of nicely not attacking each other, we oddly began sharing flies and worms and iron and manganese.

            He sure was one gelatinously frog with such thin skin that grows heavy with metals.  His family likes aluminum, lead, and zinc, which easily pass through their bodies. 

            Me, being a toad, enjoy a cocktail of chemicals from our skin and our parotoid glands.  My family sure like limestone, slate, and fieldstones, which retain cool moisture, provide secure crevices, and makes us easy to bump into.

            What we showed the world is that, Yes, frogs and toads can live together, but a lot of times they think each other are their pets. While other Frogs and Toads often share the same environments in the wild, we need to keep combining them in captivity in order to delete severe risks regarding disease, toxin exposure, and predation.

            More after more, spelling all these assemblages of our chromatic chromosomes is becoming more deflected by slight sight hearing earrings.  Look!   Look!  A big thing here and a King Kong there!  Hear that Bong that goes along from every elderly swing sling.  You’re on that sling and I got the shot and my Frog Friend gutted that kit along his heart’s slot.  Sleeping while creeping keeps making me weeping.  My weeping is your human, inhumane weaponing.  And you keep stepping on me  while I am walking me more into agony.  More, more, morn this morn.  Dring a plot as you get a shot with your bigot from that other lot.  That is an otter lot that is odder than a lot with their udder snots under all this rot.

            Think about it!  Frogs, on the other hand, use many varieties of rose quartz and amethyst to grow all of our homes in a stable, non-toxic addition tree.

            We constantly need a consistent water source that surpluses abundant food insects in order and odor and not otter which is odder to cool  them in a bunch of our shaded housing pots.  There are no laws of nature against litter if we are all surround themselves with leaves, twigs, and brush piles.  Neighbors encourage social gatherings with creative buffets of  crickets, roaches, and worms—that are gut-loaded.

            You’ve got to see that a Toad’s ally is not inconvenient.  It is not that that Frog gets me nuts.  I am a Toad and I Toad, you’re slow.  You Toad all disasters which Frog gets from Me.

 

            What do you think will happen?

 

                                                Toad Away

                                                Toad Away

                                                Toad Away

                                                Toad Away

                                                What did the Frog Croak

                                                When his Toad is Away?

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The Photon Lights Up The Dog

 

            As usual, in my work a day world I’ve got the gears to be built with recurring angles and inside distances while my closest friend convinced them to use the same physically non breaking chemicals for each part that we designed, cut out of rocks and metals, and attached to our selling machines.  I did not say ‘Selling Machines’ because they get people to buy our materials, these ‘Selling Machines’ are the outputs that we sell to other manufacturers.  These are over our bosses’ heads so they may be ‘Ceiling Machines.’

            In the existences, I, the Dog, physically looks like a human.  After a while getting used to conducting with this world, I Cut my fur. I Shampooed my hair to lie straight.  I Died my own skin.  Shaved.  Dressed in human clothes.   While this was going on, my accomplice, The Photon, prismatically and lensically made himself look like a human.  He, with my help, worked on photograph’s negatives we rounded up and used to display Photon as a fellow human being.  Lighted colors directed by ions and magnets to make displayed pictures look three dimensional.

            We realized that Hypocrisy costs less today you know.  That’s what the president said on his TV show.  That red head turdy told us so.  Weak. Weak. We pay our Bills.

            It took me a while but I was able to usefully use Dog Clippers with Double Blades for Small Pet Hair Grooming Trimmer.  I found Vitiligo to give me an autoimmune conditioner to make my skin lose its pigment, causing me to look white with pink skin.

            My friend  used d-orbital splitting and electron emissions to make himself, even though he is The Photon, he now appears in different colors.  This Photon surrounded his molecules, which he referred to as ligands, in order to bond  the attracted ions causing their outer orbitals to split into chosen different energy levels.  Early on we made a mistake with hydrating copper(II) which caused it to absorb red light making the Photon. My fellow worker, appear blue-green.  He happily found a sodium which cast himself with bright yellow skin. Mg metal gave his skin an  intense white.   Cobalt(II) makes him Pink. Manganese and Titanium are being used to produce brown skin and hair.

            For me the Photon pointed out my, “Bean Hair, Dumb Hat.”

            I replied that, “At least I am a Good Spiller.  Not a Bad Killer.  I could have been a Godzillar.”

            Well, as I was getting used to acting like a human being I dressed myself up like the  various Dog Owners down the block and dug up some money to pay for a house.  The Photon, while he was still looking like a Photon, searched the top parts of the ground to find me money to dig up.  After we found and I physically dug up enough, I bought a house and banked the rest of the money to keep me fed and energized by gas and electricity and blood flowed with drinkable water for a few years.  The Photon showed me how to write up a resume which I typed up and sent out and got my job at a telephone allowing company.  I looked like a white man and I joined a caring group of multiple human races that put efforts to not discourage people in case we individuals thought they did not have related cell growths inside of us.

            Before I disguised myself as a working human, I would dig around the non-human worked change machines and AI ran restaurant windows to pick up dropped coins and dollar bills.  I also went to peoples’ garbage cans and grabbed by my teeth thrown out clothing and shoes.  After I shaved myself and died my skin to look human, I put on my rounded up pants and shirts and shoes. 

            At work now, I look like a human being and I build what many human beings need in one way or another.  In one place or another.   To do one thing or another.  I make for them:  Parallel Shaft Gears, Spur Gears, Helical Gears, and Herringbone Gears.  Me and my new friends also build Intersecting Shaft Gears: Bevel Gears, Mitel Gears.  Me, the Photon, and the next desk person make for our bosses to do what the business owners want us to build:  Linear Motion Gears, and  Rack and Pinion Steering.

            If I thought about it, I would think, “For Riches, for Purchase, for Snitches, for Britches, Till return due us Part.”  But the closest thing to a think is this what I had in my newly disguised head:  “My part is your part.  Are we part way?”

            What I went through started with my co-workers never talking to me the first three weeks here.  Then the Photon talked to them and at the end of the month he managed me to meet with and eat with them.  The office cafeteria was good and our general discussions were good.

            That Photon told me to transmit rotational motion, speed, and torque

dedicated platforms, local stores, and direct buyers for musical instruments, to please our outdoor boss.   Sadly, equipment is definitely not sporty,  gear buyers are photographed with hidden lenses.  I constantly wanted to simplify circular levers which used to transmit rotational force and motion.  Continuing in the work area, the next desk sandpapered off the sold interlocks with their applied forces red painted identically.  We all wonder, “Do their customers want moments or torque?”

            There was a poster the Photon told me to put up on our office wall said: “At the point of contact where two gear teeth meet, Newton's Third Law applies: the force applied by Gear A onto Gear B is matched by an equal and opposite force from B back onto A. Because gears have different radii, this identical contact force has a different "lever arm" (distance to the center axle)!”

            This caused the company owner to tell us to put on the sign outside the plant: “Conservation of Energy: Gears cannot create energy. The rate of work done, or power (Power = Torque × Angular Velocity), remains preserved across the system. If a gear configuration multiplies torque, it must proportionally reduce speed (angular velocity)!”

            I suddenly realized that my life, our lives, everyone’s live are the same, over and over and over again.  “Around the rocks and under the trees, the Photon and the Dog do what they please.  One looks human.  The other shines a view of him as a human.  They are friendly to each other, this time.  They work together in order to make enough money to live in an apartment and view what is around them.  Roots and foots and socks and blocks, work managers ignore what their outside life is.  My Friend, The Photon, and me, The Dog, only have to do the actual work that the manager makes the most money for.”

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School Days, Fool Days, Here We Break The Rules Days

 

              There I was.  I had walked by, down the street, and you called me ‘A Dope.’   I feel like I’m the one you hate most.   Lately you’ve taken my money and you sure have taken my hope.  I’m afraid that soon you will kill me.  And that’s one of the ways how you chill me.

              Your actions are now beyond diatomic frictional garbage heightened ionic Jupiters, who keep killing lizards mounted on nucleic  objects while putting their own qualitatively radioactivity strongly together as they keep envisioning watery x-rays as yearly zoos.

              At our last fifth grade class you stood up from your desk and asked me, “What does Comet Sutra mean?”

              The teacher glared as I asked, “Is that the Curse of the Demon or  One of the Cures of the Demand?”

              The teacher asked the rest of the class, “Are they Deep Mud Eyes?”

              The kid in the desk in back of me asked the teacher, “And which Demon Nation are you in?”

              I smirked and said, “I’m in the Witch Demon Tune.”

              While the teacher asked me, “Did you just tune in or are you tuna?”

              And you pointed at me and asked loudly, “Will you ever find Solutions or just Salute Ions?”

              I said, “There sure is Tons of Fish.”

              The teacher then said, “You all have to stay after class because this ‘Re So Lute’ keeps going on and on and ons.”

              The kid in back of me said. “We are becoming overloaded with Ions.”

              To which the teacher pointed her ruler and said, “Demand Solar Tubes.”

              Someone I couldn’t see squeaked, “Don’t tony me!”

              I stood up and asked, “Me tea or Your Pride?”

              The principal walked in and asked, “Are you giving us another ride?”  Then he walked out the door and slammed it.  All of us in the class heard him singing in the hall way:

 

                             “You said cicada, I said luna.

                               You’ll say Maple. I’ll say Death Head.

                               ‘Cicada’, ‘Luna’, ‘Maple’, ‘Death Head’.

                               We need to call this whole thing a Moth.”

 

              That caused the teacher to chalk up on the blackboard, “Mothra Moth sure Try Cocoon Suits. Ya!”

              I raised my hand and asked when I was called on, “Is that an Insecticide or are their just Insects Inside?”

              The kid that started this argument with me yelled, “My Insect Just Died!”

              And that other kid in back of me said, “Well, My Injected Insect has only Just Dieted.”

              The teacher said, “There is nothing ‘Just’ about any one of you.”

              I got out of my seat and ran out the door, shouting, “You can’t go by me, but you sure can go bury me.  Some Say Moan Play Buried Haze.  Hay, Hay, Holy Grass it all, Ya All, Will Haul, In the Mall!”

              The kid that argued with me shouted, “The Plunge Will Find Their Way!”

              And there was the principal with the school’s nurse.  The nurse asked me, “Are you a Film Maker or do you Just Fill Marks with Hurt?”

              I said, “Nope, I am just Fudged Odor.”

              The principal said, “The Older you get The More in the same class You’ll look.”

              I ran home and my father told me, “I heard on the phone that Jack’s son leans.  Your school is Losing all your  old blue jeans.”

              My mother then pointed at me and said, “Those Magnetics sure are the prism on his vest.”

              That was when we noticed that ours was the dirtiest and cleanest street of this city.  It is the one made of mud and boiled in a microwave.  I thought, “So should I say ‘Good Bye?’”  But I knew I could not say ‘Good Buy!’ I decided that I’ll just turn the corner.  I’ll turn the corn when it is popped over.  That corn is so corny that it pops all the time.  So, at home we are in a time machine.  I sure am having my time smashed in.  It must be my intrude duction.  What ducks are you in?  Father’s here and his feather there, ‘Father’ ‘Feather’ I heard everywhere.  And that caused me to confusedly ask myself, “So where is that herd of ducks?  I am a nerd without luck.  Lucky, Lucky, Puch Change.”

 

              I then heard my Dad singing:

 

                             “Oh beer, who can my master be?

                               Seven empty bottles are falling all over me.

                               I must drive, so where on the street should I be?

                               Nobody knows I take dares.”

 

              And my mother asked, “Have I voted or am I vetoed?”

              My father pointed to me and replied, “I voted to veto you.  You had me feel like boated and life exploded.  That’s what I told Ed. Ed the Educator.”

              Then he told me, all the school’s recording said over the phone was:

 

                             “Burning Bush,

                              Plenty of Push,

                              Making Mighty,

                              Nickel Nush”

 

              That’s the way life was then.  That’s still the way life is now.  I realize that If you sneeze once I’ll sneeze twice.  If you die once, I’ll die twice.  We are just a couple of dice.  Nope, you certainly are a mice.  Is that your advice?  I guess I’ll take a splice.  I have a bunch of lice.

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Electro Planet The Bus Trip To An Eclipse

 

Honeymooners in Space

Universe 14, Planet 50                            

50th Chapter of the Stellar Bus

 

 

              “You’re roughly sixty-eight percent of the Universe.  I am picking up you, you Dark Energy of the Universe.  Electro-magnetic Radiation, I am glad you are entering my bus, also.  And I have nothing against you too, you Active Galactic Nuclei, you.

              “I am Ralph Kramden, the Diverse Driver of this Space Star Bus.  I am Active Dimensionally, but I don’t drive a Demon Trolly.  Remember, ‘This is  a Universe.’  And don’t feel like you are adverse to each other. Adverse may rhyme with Universe but there is nothing worse, and that is my verse.

              “You have the energy to enter my bus.  And I am giving my bus the energy to take you to Cardea,  FV35,  LX28, OL339, Kamoʻoalewa, YG, FW13, and  PN7.  You get dropped off at these Moons of Earth.

              “I am your driver, Ralph Kramden.  This sure is my bus but please don’t call me Buster.  I am too busy to bus us off to astral landing spaces, any real and surreal space.  So much that I seem like I am spacey.  But we just travel along a seam in space.   Accompanying us is Ed Norton, who flushes toilets and lets you use them. I hope you enjoy that your gravity is next to but not physically attracted to my wife Alice and my partner, Mr. Norton’s wife, Trixie.

              “If you can stand or constant ride, I hope you can constantias me, Welcome Aboard.”

              Because Neutron Stars & Black Holes leftovers, with their incredibly dense corks from their masters’ star explosions, they soon became either a neutron star or a black hole that Ed humorously pointed to Trixie and said, “I hope they don’t remind you of our honeymoon and prevent me from bowling and playing pool on my break of the day. Like you did back then.”

              Trixie replied “These Cosmic Seeds may seem more like Supernovae blasts with their heavy elements, and, yes, I do like iron and oxygen across this universe.  Which ever Universe.  And I am not saying we are in a ‘Witch Ever’ Universe. These elements work for the companies that make building blocks for news planets, and everything else is in their own place.”

              Ralph pointed out several Magnetic & Electric Fields despite Ed's advice to be non attracted because Trixie earlier accused him of forcing him to a place on Earth's ambipolar electric field, which could help Ralph drive through atmospheric particles.

              Ed relied on Ralph to break the bad news to Trixie that these faint Cosmic Microwave Backgrounds that left clouds of heat from the Big Bang because they lacked their binary system in order but not odor and are adored to hire someone to do it for them.

              Ralph radiologically preferred to a giving Dark Energy whose pair of suspenders hung over Saturn’s rings, aurora borealising for practical needs.

              Sixty eight percent of the forces which accelerated cosmos told Ralph "Every time I went down to the beach they used to crowd around me."

              Alice whispered to Ralph, "Sure, they space cloud around you. That sure doesn’t mean they were hazy over you. They just wanted to gravitationally split in the shade!" 

              The stellar, dark energy, deep space phenomena playfully complained that Ed was making their momentums all morphe.

              Ralph then told them, “"One of these days... one of these days... POW! Right in the cryovolcanoes!  A space geyser."

              A constant stream of light and radiation flooding space with their powered Stars using nuclear fusion caused Ralph to state, “Planetary nebula, Plasma, Parsecs. Alice! What am I supposed to do without Pluto?"

              Alice said " Emission nebul 'em, like any other Exo Planet!"

              White Dwarf Detonations then ran up the steps like a bunch of thermonuclear explosions and those caused Alice to whisper to Trixie, "I'm still waning and waxing. I thought they had been Impact Craters."

              Trixie then whispered back, “Radial Velocity Impact Craters sure don't want more Metallicity.”

              Generated masses of mounted X-rays, and their partners, gamma rays, and some high-energy particle jets were brought to the centers of Ralph’s space bus.  This caused Ralph to say, “Just be a little careful, Alice, a little Cepheid variable. Remember, the Lenticular  you stage may soyas your own."

              Alice then replied, “You just need to go Blueshift, and some Zeeman! You’ve got to drive Straight to those Moons!"

              Ralph then said "Whatever happened to that geospace, Alice? You remember what you said to me before we got Mr. Melipal on this bus? 'Ralph, I'd be happy to laser up a thermal radiation with you.'"

              A boarding Star’s core collapsed while firsts and seconds came aboard in their cataclysmic shockwaves while looking like bows away in those outer lines.  That caused Trixie to say to Ed, "While other husbands do things, they can always be assured of their wife solar flaring behind them. Why can't you just spacewalk binarily without Miss Mercury?”

              Alice told Trixie "Oh, it's not macrolensing fault, Trixie. There just isn't enough redshift back there."

              Ralph butted in,  "Every time Infrared went down to that Brown Dwarf they used to comet around MACHOS."

              Alice then said, “Ralph, quit calling yourself a MACHO.  MACHOS are Massive Compact Halo Objects.”

              Then a bunch of Cosmic Rays and Plasmas joined seats with other White Dwarf Detonations.  This caused Ralph to go, “I have... I've got an electromagnetic spectrumation. A photon one. I'm a Dichotomy. Not a run-of-the-mill Diffraction, the world's champ Dobsonian. I've never shown you the Doppler Effect you deserve, Alice." Alice asked, “Where the heck are these eight moons: Cardea,  FV35,  LX28, OL339, Kamoʻoalewa, YG, FW13, and  PN7?” 

               That caused Ralph to shout, “They are ‘Our Moons, Honey!’ 

              This cause Alice to state that Ralph sure is a ‘Honey Mooner.’

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Countess Draculatas

 

 

When I was tired of my soul lively

She had her fangs shoot out so long

She’s a bat that keeps performing

She’s a thing like a girl King Kong

So, while that wolf was out there leaping

All you could see is that I was dead

And in all those other persons’ coffins

They just lay there while she self fed

 

 

So Do you like Countess Draculatas?

When you get fangs in your veins

Does she make you into a Werewolf?

Don’t get a shot of silver in your brain

Would she be turning into a Bat at Midnight?

Would Wooden Stakes make her just slain?

Then I’m in the Cemetery for your digging

Where Draculatas wears her cape

 

She don’t think she is so shady

In a mirror she is not seen

All those lives keep going to their Graves

While her coffin remains so clean

Now I feel like I’m breathing all this vapor

And her father is that Vlad

She just calls me Johnathan Harker

And Wallachia remains glad

 

Now I like Countess Draculatas

My bites sure do make a stain

And I’ll fly into your window

While you whip me with that chain

All your neighbors run off in fright

I wish I had their lion’s mane

In the boat they call me Walleye

And your neck sure tastes like grape

 

 

 

 

 

 

See those Comets in this Full Moon Light

I feel like I’m walking out in Space

Those ain’t rabies that I had gotten

When You put that crucifix on your neck

You’ll save your life from all this Heck

It’s just like bites you have taken gotchas

And I go sucking out life from your veins

Boy they’ll think you’re buried too

 

So you liked Countess Draculatas

When your blood  was all fang drained

Life’s like you’re living in the Ocean

And we all think you’re insane

Your neighbors think this is a fright night

And I am the one they blame

When the sun comes up next morning

I’ll be gone once again

 

Yes I like my sutures in your neck line

And your Cemetery grave

Where Countess Draculatas keeps a flying

And she’s strong just like a crane

So lets go together out stalking

With that dear dead  bat girl

She is our Countess Draculatas

And her teeth now makes our brains.

                                                         I liked writing this                                                                                                                                         I hope you liked reading this                                                                                                                      I hope you enjoy reading  THESE                                                                

 

The Daughter Of Rosemary's Baby

 

Last century while I was out stalking

I heard a dead girl go ‘GRR’

That’s when my whole life got taken away

There went my soul down in a threatening sway

Then she howled as she came now to kill me, and my veins they started to fizz

I saw her fur and I heard her ‘GRR’, so what do you think she is

 

She’s the daughter of Rosemary’s Baby

A regular old-fashioned Ghoul

She doesn’t go out into those Sunlit Things

Comets more suite her and her  bat house wings

She says your blood taste is great gravy

Soon after she sucks it you’ll be

Under the moon with the Daughter of Rosemary’s Baby

 

As She goes into  Roman Woodhouses

I unexpectedly go blind

If she didn’t fly, she’d be like those mouses

I know that I’m out of my mind

I tried to get a stake to stick in her heart, and if I hammered it, she’d slay

But Justify my pride, When you all have died, and my body now does not decay

 

Your night flight

Witch

Fangy Teeth hooks

From the phone booths

Mysterious coma the night before

Blood Libel

Justifies her arrival because

 

 

She’s the daughter of Rosemary’s Baby

An elder with whose pungent is now dead

She does escape executions

And you’re now Blind in cemetery beds

Here she comes and she is Satanic

As all of us do is Panic

When Her Gaunt is the Coven that we see

We’ll all be dead for The Daughter of Rosemary’s Baby.

                                          I had fun writing this                                       

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They'll Hand It To You, Jewel Paws To Yous It

 

              Our lives are in a race competition between hands and feet, between paws and claws,  between what you can do and how you can get there, meaningfully.  Does this mean who gets there first, or even who gets there, or does it mean we think other related living beings are worse than us?  Is it speed or hatred enough of other people to not call them people?  Well, there is more living, thinking, feeling things on earth other than our own people.  I started as a child.  What was I a child of?  What life, if you consider it life, is so childish?  Are you calling a fellow living thing an “IT”?  Are you saying that something that is a toe is called a claw on  some other living things?  Things that are not you.  How do you know that they are not you?  Do you even know what “know” means?

              I think I understand that I grew up as a cell in a hair that became a finger nail.  My family, my Mother, my Father, my sister, and my brother were, are, might be, and possibly will be the fingers on this hand.  My neighbor is the right hand.  A couple near by street neighbors are those two feet.  Our country is our person.  Our continent is our neighborhood.  Our world is our state.  Our solar system is our world. Our Universe is our sun, moon, and Mars.  That Mars you but it Jars me.  I hate being in a Jar.  But I don’t hate beings in those Jars.  And what about our pets?  What about our river’s cells?!  What about The Forests Around Us!!!  What is a being?  What is a thinker?  What is an Exister???  And don’t forget the soil.  Don’t forget the sandstones.  Don’t forget The Magma!!!   And What About All Those Ions and Anti-Ions????   And do you Remember that Anti-Mater Really Matters!!!  And they are not our Masters.

              All those feets, claws, toes, calluses, and so on.  Hands versus Feet.  Feet are so great that size is named for a Foot.  But do not mind hindfoot, midfoot, and that forefoot.  Don’t forget Plantar Fascia, Achilles Tendon, Talus, Metatarsals, Phalanges, and all those little Sesamoids.  A phalanges (finger bones) here, a metacarpals (palm bones) there, here some carpal bones (wrist bones), there some groups of mangy toes:  Hallux, Pointer, Middle, Ring, and Baby Toe.  A finger finger here, a finger finger there, here a Thumb, there a Index, every where a Middle, and Little.  Since I’m talking about fingers and telling you what’s Here, did you Hear the Ring?

              All over there are Animals with Thumbs.  A handful of Primates, with their friends the Marsupials, and those Amphibians, and don’t forget the Reptiles!  You think they are all of us.  Are you racist against Animals without Feet?   Instead having four hands you’s guys are primarily primates.  I’m a  chimpanzees, you’re a  gorillas, my not friend friends are orangutans, and don’t forget those monkeys, at last thought, lemurs!

              My pal’s name is Big Foot.  Where did Foot Foot go?  What did Foot Foot do?  Foot Foot, where do they not mind you?  It must be a snake that is like a Foot and a dog that is like a Hand.

But you snakes have no feet, other than the hidden, unused bones shrunk in your skeleton.  Spy on that spinal chord.  And chorus with those unused, wasted feet.   And do Dogs have Paws?  They have no hands at all.  They use their mouth and teeth for fingers and hand use.  And see them Do and Do and Doo all over the place.

              I guess Artificial Intelligence has been replaced by imaginary calluses. Your Calluses keep calling You Sissie.  Would you rather be a Foot Ball or a Wooden Foot All?  I just wish you were a Handy Person.  Do you want to be Toad Away or A Toed That Way?  I know That Dog has a Fine Grrr.  So, you can’t say he has no fingers!  He’s got two paws for it.  And I got Foot Tour for my Future!  I am so proud that my many toes are my Momentoes.  It is all related.  My Mom sure Met Toes.  Even though you call my family  Foot Loss and Family Freaks.

              I just want to be called Handsome.  I don’t live in a cage like my Hand Stir.  We are all a bunch of Foot Lupus and Failing Fleas, Please.   I don’t want no Freak On no mix.  We are becoming a Freak Of Nation.  With our Hand Dull we claim we Care.  Our words are just Handy.  And we are Weirs causing your  Hands to Die.  You think you are Foot Sure.  You are really a Toe Knight, Toe Knight, I’ll make the charge Toe Fright.

              Remember when I clapped my hands as my feet walked me through the woods.  Wooden floors and wounded feet.  I pointed at other beings as I tread my way to fool school.  I headed to the front door but my feat tours grew a lot worse.

              Just learn it.  Worms never had feet and hands.  Snakes used to have legs and arms and they used to be armed with feet or hands or claws or paws.  Paws that paused their development.  What was meant by that?  Is that why you are mean by us.  Spin and find your way.  Your sin is Your Way is to be In The Way!

              I may not be Handed to some, but some of us cause Pawses in the infractions of life.  I can’t nail it claws you walked right into my path.  I am even more pathetic cuss of my thumb bone being a thumb bomb. Bone Voyage.  My Bones have Aged and Aged.  You fin your way to the See and I fink my way with all I Sea.  And I am really Icey.  Sprint, hint here.  Mint, lint there.  Hear a scale, heavy scale, what I wear causes swears there.     

 

To get along with all of this I kneed to I need to Mill Ions.  Ions don’t breath but Lions do, and they also breathe and they also poo.  You Bleed with Thrill Ions.  I must pay the Bill of Ions.

                                                                    I liked writing this                                                                                                                                          I want you to like reading this                                                                                                                        I hope you like reading some of THESE