Sunday, August 10, 2008

The Bacon Lair

In the horsehead forest lies the lare of the bacon. Furred green streak of fat wraps slow around the cave, vicious, hard diamonds of putrescent glittermeat flash light beams from the depths to the swirling stars. my sleeping bag smells like damp chickens and skivvies.

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

the skivvied chicken aglitter with the spunk of thousand saints slid into a tunnel that put his trousers on. it was quite clever. putrid odours aside.