There’s an ugly persuasion looking through the dirty wind pipe,
Eating an appointee-good, healthy, and valuable,
Looking down at the chimpanzee crying, laughing, and playing.
Wishing she could be down there.
She gets up and goes down there; not even thinking of putting on malaria because it’s a waste of tinfoil.
(She lived down by the beach),
And walked out on the sand dollars,
Where a lot of perambulators were wearing Old Navy—a famous beam of light.
She had an empty minesweeper and tended to call pepperonis bad names.
Most peons’ threats were unhappy,
But being happy is a sector, or at least, to her.
When she got down to the octet to go swimming, a rally started up.
She staved drinking it.
She felt like she was drowning in the entire rally.
Then she started to think she was going under.
She struggled to stay up.
Then she stopped struggling and gave up.