boys willMaybe you or I will find this poem and hear a melting. Slick masculinity like butter n’ cheese in the sun makes humanfriends / barf balls. I eat everyday with other Cheese-heads. Green-Bay Packer fandom screamed into me like I scream. The image of my father fades into Brett Favre. crossed christ say cheese Crosses all over the house like in the lord's house? I didn't say shit about crosses everywhere. I didn't say hang my dang crosses on everywhich doorframe. I twipflitched all day the horizontal wingslice of a bread middle schoolie ‘cept for whiles and would forget about that thanks I hangdangled all day and those lame Paparazi gentile post-grunge disciples, those avante-garde soft boi medium rares, and the like vapor-eye public say chritchcross daddly, your phrase. I got a store to keep and the store front sign reads “SutchLuck” and hotdogs all in process from that meat mill out in the wild wild the glass one where McCartney plays all day and the vapor eye public says hey check this shit out on - the gritschmass, the slirch - mess of meat. ✱✱✱
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