aliens melted my brain…

your catchy title here

it’s 150 thousand degrees in here,
a radio stuck on repeat;
i don’t remember the song.

walked from couch to kitchen
enough times to wear tracks
on the piss-poor carpet skin
coverin’ all the floorboards. pondered
the meaning for a few minutes,
quit when i couldn’t find one.
laughed when i remembered;
that’s where we keep cold drinks.

i can’t say i mind such mysteries,
provided of course each one weighs
a thousand pounds and we deal with
all of them at the same time.
obviously, doing it any other way,
say perhaps one at a time, would
be boring, and lord fucking knows;
we can’t have that.

i’m laughing so hard i’m pissing myself;
worse is that just brings
more gales of laughter, which only
brings more piss. it’s a vicious cycle,
with no end in sight. i heard a noise;
turned out jakob dylan was playing around
with his guitar. at least it wasn’t on
repeat. i switched pants &
stopped laughing so hard.

the song finished playing
for the fifth time; it seemed
easy enough, walk over to the remote
in the kitchen, brave the flames,
change the channel, maybe
a cold drink. in between here n’ there
i ended up on the floor.
i lay staring at the underside
of the roof for some time;
all things considered,
seeing the top, even from
underneath is kinda nice.
beats wearing tracks on the bottom.

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