Frozen spit (narrowly missed the cracks, on the slats of the ancient boardwalk)

and you can’t change it
there were mastodons
then, creatures of
amorphous being,
entities that couldn’t
breathe, gasping up
air

the abominable snowman
once had a carrot cock,
he pissed himself clean,
trickled hot water, melted
to a molecule, to
the staunch singularity that
started this Universe—

and the critics still say (and
they swear by it!), “He
should have held it in—”

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