I'm Feeling Rather Restless!

[WolfLarsen]

Warning: some sexual imagery

I’m feeling rather restless. I’d like to chop up literature into a deranged Cubist architecture. Then I would like to turn all the classical writers into postmodern porn actors doing an Impressionist painting with a giant Andy Warhol anus.

I’m not sure which century we’re in, but does it matter?

Anyway, I just want you to know that the walls growing out of the words are fine. You should also know that turtles do not make good taxicabs, especially when you’re on another planet.

The following can be said about too many goldfish:;//!, that too many goldfish are not made out of words, unless you’ve been swallowed by a poem that’s not a poem.

[WolfLarsen]

Warning: there is some sex in this post. So if you are against sex please stop reading.

Dear Sir or Madam or Extraterrestrial:

To refresh your memory regarding our conversation about giant ceiling testicles I am writing you this letter.

Contrary to your insistence, I never said that lakes of sperm are going to inundate the cities of the Great Plains of the United States. Instead, I said that too many space monkeys with giant adjectives as penises were going to invade India.

At one point in the conversation you said that pink flying giraffes were going to invade the Martian Empire of Kubla Khan.

I argued with you, because first Kubla Khan is dead, there is no Martian Empire, and everybody knows that the pink flying giraffes invaded England a century ago.

That’s when you said that toilets are going to swallow the history of all mankind. I responded that giant mouths in the sky had already swallowed the history of mankind.
Then, you grew like a skyscraper phallus out of the crotch of the Prime Minister of Ireland. That’s when everybody in Ireland applauded you. Since I was not in Ireland at the time I took out my penis and urinated poetry all over the human race. That’s when the entire human race applauded.

You being jealous said that spaceship-phalluses were being attacked by vicious vagina plants growing out of planets everywhere. I responded to this by taking off my leg prosthesis and hitting a United States senator over the head with it repeatedly. You immediately began screaming “bananas! Bananas! Bananas!”

Then we had lunch together. At lunch we discussed a machine that could clone the planet earth. Apparently, the machine could create over 1000 planet earths every second. This is according to data you pulled out of your *******. Once we had cleaned up the data I found it very convincing.

That’s when we had coffee together. You said that purple cockroach beauty queens are going to dance electric-construction site-samba this Saturday at Richard Pryor’s funeral. But I believe Richard Pryor has already had a funeral.

Later, we took your giant human-sized spider out for a walk in Manhattan. The passerby were very surprised. Your human-sized spider pet carried on very learned conversations about art & philosophy & politics with everybody’s dogs. Dogs are very smart in these things, you know.

So I want to thank you for a very lovely afternoon together. Next week we’re going to dance naked on top of buses in Kabul, Afghanistan. It should be loads of fun. Care to join us?

Sincerely,
Wolf Larsen

PS If you look outside your window right now you’ll see my giant face. I had a plastic surgeon make my face 20 times bigger than it was before! Isn’t that cool! Look outside your window and see!