'Comfort equals full use of the body for communication.' said Ladybug.

Smoked everything me had. The curbs scream in victory when trucks meet cement. The buildings are big, olive branches dead, flag poles flying no skirts of glory this week. No faith in me, not even half mast. Parking lot for faggot impounds. They will take me away, put me behind bars, coil snake venom around my soft ankles, grease me in syrups and release the fire ants. Building crosses for frontline defense. This isn't Gods Land of Ditches so where do me go? Can't just pick up and be off. Can't leave News?papers in awe. What about all the bums? What would they do if me weren't here to spread smiles, smokes and hope? The mountain and free love. Snorting lines of red dirt to keep from catching the cold creeps, those assholes are out to rob me of my grace and booty. Hungry on a friday. Just got paid centless. Blending magic dust for the sheep to caress one another with. How about all these girls chasing after me? Young and old rolling cigarette smoke over their tongues, talking coy, walking lopsided and in need of a good light to release the pressure obtained from Math tests. I suppose I'd better learn to talk in numbers if I want a kiss.