Eppie-J, remarkably unstooped, neck uncrimped, coiffed, pampered, though in babyhood, probably without pampers, running through the rides of Coney in Freak City, perved out of his mind,
Was jaded.
Eppie-J, bright boy, good boy, jangling like jade on a wind chime, breeze of the Atlantic, on a Jersey shore, boasts of women with azurite resemblance to jaguar, if the cat bojangles, avoiding snaggles and entangles,
Especially of foreign souvenir bangles,
Purr,
Snore,
Of the unknown country of women, or whatever it is. Unknown country of women, now that sounds fine, like a rhythm written in algorthm splitting and spitting, down, along a green shaft, thunder and lightning! A country of women, big and fine, able to take the blows of an Eppie-J, Amazonian, rhythm and roll, who wants to rule? The Amazon extends into Venezuala, the women very ripe, and the Amazon is a great river, riparian delight. Eppie-J, dipping and dripping low, an unfortunate pearl, or sponge, or manganese nodule, dives, abandoned, hurls himself further,
Spam of Human Affection 
Leave a comment