"were you a walking wall or wolf and were you springing into the sun," "the fletch of king bacon or the earth of nine worlds," and "forest sauce is the lucky moon of the dirt"

were you a walking wall or wolf and were you springing into the sun

language rice is a moment of the faces
 
to squint at the butter
menthol joyce was a senior tree
 
I was the horrible ant
of course there is no wonder bread now
 
the wild mane of the northern yes
the green hammer shines like a lark puppet
 
there was a break in the light system to panda my own story

the fletch of king bacon or the earth of nine worlds

wearing my martian headphones
eating a squirrel pie
 
a confined aspen or apple
                    we didn’t move
 
to mirror up a gland
little satellite friend
 
to trigger the sun
the world of warm feathers
 
prefecture of the gum
a mirrored moon

forest sauce is the lucky moon of the dirt

one of the three times I climbed the tree to see the sun
to grow back the hair I lost in the rushing swoom
 
there was a bag of donuts and we ate the mall
and now for a report on the dust
 
            I camp like a dollar hand the size of lemon
            under the stairs counting bugs and now I’m a bug, too
 
to be the wrong king
the bark in berry amounts and blessing
 
that sad friend in the lumber yard
that miracle frown to bless the kingship soccer
 
the desert rose of the good smurf theory
I win the game using a black magic marker