The Connecticut State Boyscout S'more Recipe
or
White Slave Amputees in Greenwich
or
Why Joycean Snuffstills Remind Me of Nutmeg


by polycarp kusch

     Monobrow'sing past 'Graham Tally's Starewello Herewell Bordello' hanging stone and ironically limp off an oft passed street off of Arch St. GCT, mime mind fleshs shadows drowned on the drawn certain below to be dirty-neked jestures dumping their damp thin things to drippel on the armlegless fleischmat fishslatus matress covers trollyuped in random accesspoolible prepostandinterim sodoralcoitality (coitus maeruptus, watch for the cadence hear) .
     And these seminal sacks with their seemanal cracks hover glass under packing race thought tracks with Chivas Legal breathalizer sing-a-songy bindings bounding them blinded by the happlicklessasshunts of butter knave's knives.
     Amputease all! Mutesuits with liquid toots for the Knudekluxklandestine Kodiaklear pickedsure shoots. Blackout screens hide the backgroundstillscreaming asss covering mud pearly white sphectripblisterung pee-lings.
     Hurinals tall! (they scough, sgag and schoke too) If not widened-buy-pokes witheir hairags as whypoffs for actionsend goo. The bloodfloodplug caligulates to seeall one s'more human whorse for another ruff riding (Woof! Woof! Tally Ho!).
     One s'more: chocolate drainage (peanuts XXX-tra) smeered in mushsmellowy pockets of Graham's cracker cracktopen empees out loy. Hee payees all thee layees in ivy sucktsaleens and saves sweet chairished cramdies for long weakend cramp outs with nuboyill scrapeouts and misstemic scapegloats, wearing drop flap back wastecoats and pusshing two person tent posts into tyne teeny moons made of muscle and off color cheese (eat semisopped hand roam temperature.)
     The mighty swill fall! and sip summer, and ought Autumn not cumn, in the winters we'll play in the woods off the Merritt badge parkway (Tally Foray Whoray!) Nought cot tho today, Tally's ho. Tally's whorse. Tally's who-ur-show-off-shows continuescontinue ustil this wery day.
     Ole! Brujaverdi syngc 'over hurrdle gurdys; and, still down off of Arch St. the passersressap 'sstagger and 'sstummble out wide paths, on two 'out in the street steps' avoiding the Stare, Well oh just for a moment, and hears mell and taste swell subsdewed singhollers illignored by the strollers by dingquiet bord hellos whyl? strolling this stairwell can (f)lawlessly hear hell in these turtle tortures of the boy scouting tribes just described in Conekteecunt's appfluent spamlet. Ole!


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