Dog toe kidney stone forever until you’re dead,

And then they don’t hurt as much. Until your undead dogtoe toenail heeds the calling, within it’s fungus, then drags you earthward. Up’t thine crust. Where-inst first you lied. Back there twards Tallahasseee with piss burnin’…Ah-whooooo and smokestack lightnin’, my brother you got all those miles of swamp ahead of ye. Cans’t thee not welcome those blessed acres with arms upraised? Would thee not pass thine stone and pass unto the last unpaved florida acre, unharmed, unfeeling, pecker hard as a staff with rigor mortis divining the blessed path? Through Alligator turf, walking on slime? Salvation I say, is upon thee, honorable Snodgrass. Encapsulated within thy loins of doubt is the stone of truth, waiting to be passed. Believe in the promise of the missing ballsack of thine overheated panhandle. Trust in the bukakke sperm load that was Cuba left long-ago around the missile crisis. Democracy floating un-nurtured and left for dead on the frigid loins of the Caribbean. I got nine million Christians for every one million muslims on the line right now and they are ready to leap up out their barkaloungers and march towards Tallahassee to see the poet-child walk on the marshes, ride on the backs of divine reptilian grace, benighted by Jeb Bush, here he comes, the undead poet King, with fingers creaking, pointing towards the promised land. Ocala, beloved Ocala!