Pork me in the sewer on a $100 scooter,
at Boeke where Pollack makes the tuning fork, the source of all tinnitus.
Pour Sweetser on it, and get sold two-paper oregano.
Sit in your raintree jock where people from Punjab can't hack the heat.
Sweaty tits made of stromboli, Grippos, Ski and Red Bank kudzu.
Una pizza wasp nest blinded to the Pigeon Creek Dire Wolf behind.
Champagne don't travel either.