Paralympics and Lactose Intolerance

 1.  You are super strong and everything.  Ever think about going into the Paralympics?

 Parapelegix aren’t estupid, they are just the only ones who can sit still when the merengue estarts going.

The kotinos, a sprig of jib catching wind on its way to Diamond-shaped heaven, rots on my shoulder.

Television’s in Quantum repose.  The Knicks trickle down the bleachers with worn Hollandaise drips.

I bought a Mystery Bag for 3 bucks before bar close, then was raked out by my billowing neck.

“Your almond eyes are toast!” he says.  “They look small but, man, are they strong!” he says.

Little girlie squints up at me, frightfully Nixon of her.  I ask, why?!  “I was being a You,” says her resin.

I am good at three things.  Knowing what a damn tree is.  Running away.  Saying hi when I mean it.

Look at us, monkey-faced, cross-eyed in sub-weirdo weather!  Will you step ladder with me?

We are hand jiving in a room of American Sign Language for Be-Winners! Oh, poor us.

We are canola oil in Sicily.  We are yellow paint for Krishna.  We are neatly checkered kitchen tables.

2. Sorry to compare my recently discovered lactose intolerance to your loss-of-limb.

Oblong body, weakened by milk, cozy in blue righteous underwear popcorn coach butt impressed.

I could be BATMAN FABIO SCHWARZENNEGGER COSBY STONE COLE STEVE AUSTIN BACONATOR!

Did you know the stomach gets no, nothing from the flowing Worchester sauce and tay-toes

When lactose coats it.  It is nesting its Zionist ass at the bottom of your belly, soaking and displacing

Those woeful nutrients.  That damn dairy takes your Vitamin Brave up to the tops of our Altitudes

And evaporates its ribosomes.   Sands its corners.  Reticules its heart, honor, sunrise memories.

So you are left with a nap that fries your nails, not lightens your lids!  Ick your lozenges!

Your eyes are wilting.  My eyes are wilting.  I am lactose intolerant.  My minerals went to no orphanage.

Poor me, now sipping smoothies in my know-how.  Poor you, probably just as well you dream in cheese.

You CAN so no to gas.  I swear so.  Princes, you’re worth it.  When will you go after what you deserve?