five four three two one

to be honest (fingers crossed)
i did sleep with your wife
and your husband
passed out before the dog
got involved
but what i
planned to say
was i am
attached to my esophagus
or it to my stomach
and it's like a snake
contracting cows
and pigs and cupcakes
(a penny once - mom said  
swallowing presidents
was a bad idea, but an old abe
may be better than  
a slick willy i supposed)
well, and to the idea
(still with me) really,
attached too the idea that is
that esophagus has not
been used in a poem before
or not twice in so quick succession
anyway and in this way
novelty is born in
the live feed of odd's trough
where just now you mumble read
this word slop little piggy
in your brain-gullet bucket-mouth
inner drawl to fatten up my fat
back bacon baby look at me ma
no hands snort snort squeaaaaal