Casio Peppercorns

Third rate doses rubber knobs
Impromptu fudging's paper tails
A touch of high-end gutter spice
Might be enough to set the sails

Designation's bloated teeth
Have mediocre subtle sweets
Ramming down inside the throats
Of all the utter hopeless geese

So prick the tongue with claws of whores
Ungrateful fat as Caesar's beef
And unto you a glittered toxin
Spiked and noxious clutching leech

The day is withered to a nub
But clouds part inward on the ridge
With waxy bitches in the distance
Clawing for each cell so glib

I hear the sunset and smell the sky
Though salty it seems soft and tart
And as the garbage hangs on pigtails
Hope is starting to depart
And something rustles in the dark
No form is given to the mark
The tongue is coming out