this merry band of bantering old sparrows winds through the jungle spewing jokes gossip wandering up past the bromeliads tucked into tree nooks under a roof of shadows suddenly a toucan appears white
I’ll fry with you now I’ll fry with you then we’ll fry together for as long as we can for if life’s a hot skillet we should fry as friends no reason to fry alone all the way to the end we’ll fry each
you see how barbeque sauce wants you to ravage chicken or that mustard works for the hotdog that really wants you or garlic points you to the bread that slinks its way past the door of your mouth to m