I. Jiminy Cricket—Mayan glyph code for apocalypse—eats small toads, wrapped in snakes, where a jungular floor of quick-lime deposits stew like dirty tube-socks and brustlings of churned earth. Here is where the flood-waters came to a stop, a scurvy line of sailor shaped hills beneath a bombast of nippled clouds.
II. We who consume pyramids and druidic oaths like Flintstones-chewable Dilauded, grown from deep ground—planet of scorch-pronged prickle vines, red leaf tree mites, diamond head Hawaiian green flies, Sri Lankan black temple crickets, rusticated Canadian horse beetles, midget burgundy trans-hemispheric swamp finches , cat-tail green nematodes, transparent sea-maggot tadpole-krill, translucent raccoon eared sporks, mushroom headed salmon river dwarf guppies, Palo-Verdean white pseudo shrimp, binocular-horse-nostril trilling mantises, Cretan orange-speckled mult-thrusters, damp wheat-grass carbuncle-dome oat weevils, and an assortment of grubs frults, grimps, sprilts and zlootfish of all varieties…
III. Pre-diluted, zoot-suited, shredded, beheaded, origamically vetted, unsweated and not-yetted—the delusion of the genetically Pro-Kedded.
IV. From space, big-box stores are tiny square microchips; untended transmission towers diagram indecipherable morphemes scrawled in prayers of melting ice, where factories of brick-chimney stalks process cartoons from sun-dried souls.
Jeffrey Z. Rothstein (firstname.lastname@example.org) is a celebrated and much beloved Brazilian poet, who used to produce children's television shows under the name Sid N Marty Krofft. He has won numerous awards, mostly from small journals whose names are unpronounceable, and refuses to eat eggs if they scream. He also believes that he was a famous 19th century writer's beard in a past life, and once found a small flying saucer inside of an apple. He lives inside of his head, which lives inside a bigger head that he calls home somewhere south of the Battle of Mt. Horeb near Madison Wisconsin but with more trees.