My Cardboard Balcony

Too Coffee Husk by Belinda Roddie the bean shell creates steam in the basin room, dripping cyanide molasses everywhere in every orifice never mind the empty corn cob smoking a pipe in the den, watching reruns of America's Got Nothing To Offer, Joey Blue Horn blowing bubbles in Stephanie's (oooh I better not say that) crisp clean double dream montage mocha style cappa-comfort computer comrade. This is the life. This takes no elements of grease to cook this fat bearded goose.

This is it. I've staked my claim. Set up camp on a dark terrain. I've brewed up brews and I've kicked off steam. I've lived the life and I've dreamed the dream. There's gold to be dug and there's gold to be panned. There's evil afoot and spirits to be banned. There are people to meet and more people to hate. So I'll fish and I'll hunt and I'll eat my own bait. I'm happy a prospector ever can be.