Bald Bush

shout out to my Yo-T's thats going to be my book baby, the Solid Gold dancer song I was imaging in a sound room with all that techno pop poet, but before I could sign the check Agent C calls me a Sham Poet for not having a one liner on my answering service, its this lonely cell phone fault or something baby sugar butterfly icecream dew leg drop of heaping sex dancer, your my favorite!!!! Agent M was more mellow watching the sexy slither and the tatoo right above the Bald Bush that said Sin for Sale. I love my lips, the hips and also blatant intoxication along with ? Agent C never cease's to amaze me always getting the inside storys from The Source whatever it is, to me it's Canyons and endless horizon unzipped by a goddess from the great beyond. To be native again with ones chasing familar sprites, this tree hugger is always on the verge of just doing it, I have to quell my anger or I might do something famous, I have to keep reminding myself that this is just a fleeting speck of time crashing, nothing to get flipped out about something right, 'mother fuckers!!! Thats what my spleen said. Now I'm going to manifest sixty big ones for a ride across the barren fissured rocks and dropping cliffs of Bald Eagles, where the female reigns. The World as we Know it is bunkers, time to collect the first offer from the Wild Space Psyche union of sexy girls with squirt guns riding silver surfer boards.