WALKING JABBER

You are going across, man.

It's out.

You're going bowling in cement shoes.

You are dancing near the airport.

There is no way you won't see seven AM,

if you know what I'm saying.

What? You don't?

You're clued down on the lingua germanica?

Your ignoble in the minds of men AND monkeys?

Idiot savantia half-way there?

I don't google yer dialog boxes.

You're unclear.

And clearly

you're missing zeroes in my transfer.

Your newspeak is older than hope

softer than bonzo

more brittle than burns.

We've got kilos to go before we sweep

and we may never find Foo Fighters

let alone anything else.

It's antistart, man.

It's out.

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