So, hey! Is everybody sure they’re real?
How do they know? Because their noses blow?
Because they have nowhere to go? Because
they can’t say no? Because they’ve got an
outer glow that they believe will soon achieve
an answering response in lusted-after Joe? –
whom you just saw advance upon that red-
head Mary, secretary to the Moonshine Girls?
He’d gladly pay the IRS to go away with
pints of his own blood if it were necessary.
And what’s the IRS to do with this? You may
well ask. Questions tend to make things clear.
Ask one and you’ll start to think you’re here.
Ask another and the whole gestalt of what
you think about yourself will come to haunt
and worry, hurt, deceive, desert and taunt you.
See that giant lady praying? I’m just saying.