what's going on tonight beneath the electric starlight?
I. for 110 dollars i hooked my boss up with an eighth and a half of shrooms and an eighth of weed. he wanted ecstasy. i told him to ask the hot dog man in the center of town.
II. amidst the piercing shrieks, constant nagging and continuous fire of questions, between the sticky coats of melted ice cream, exploding ketchup and flying fries, in the heat of the grill and blast of air conditioning, over the thunder of silverware and dishes and non-stop soft rock/pop radio, he says to me, "You have terrible posture."
"I know," I say. I know.
"What's the matter?" He wants to know, "World weighing you down?"
III.
II. amidst the piercing shrieks, constant nagging and continuous fire of questions, between the sticky coats of melted ice cream, exploding ketchup and flying fries, in the heat of the grill and blast of air conditioning, over the thunder of silverware and dishes and non-stop soft rock/pop radio, he says to me, "You have terrible posture."
"I know," I say. I know.
"What's the matter?" He wants to know, "World weighing you down?"
III.