Pena

(Fast and bulbous!)
Fast and bulbous!
(Okay, do it again...)
(Love that...)
Fast and bulbous!
(That's right, the mascara snake, fast and bulbous)
Bulbous also tapered
(Yeah, but you've gotta wait until I say: also, a tin teardrop)
Christ
(Again, beginning)
Fast and bulbous!
(That's right, the mascara snake, fast and bulbous. Also, a tin teardrop)
Bulbous also tapered
(That's right)

Pena, her little head clinking like a barrel of red velvet balls
Full past noise
Treats filled her eyes, turning them yellow like enamel coated tacks
Soft like butter hard not to pour out
Enjoying the sun while sitting on a turned on waffle iron
Smoke billowing up from between her legs
Made me vomit beautifully and crush a chandelier
Fall on my stomach and view her from a thousand happened facets
Liquid red salt ran over crystals
I later Band-Aided the area, sighed, "Oh well it was worth it"

Pena, pleased but sore from sitting, chose to stub her toe
And view the white pulps horribly large in their red pockets
"I'm tired of playing baby," she exclaimed.
And out of a blue felt box let escape one yellow butterfly the same size
Its droppings were tiny green phosphorous worms
That moved in tuck and rolls that clacked and whispered in their confinement

Three little burnt scotch taped windows, several yards away
Mouths open to tongues that vibrated and lost saliva
Pena exclaimed, "That's the raspberries"