Tonsils so docile
you can eat them like dumplings
dumping your tummy
on a rumpled green tongue.

Stews you can use
to lose the blues
if you choose
or just deliver the news
that Stu is here, too.

Feet of a stork
that look like a cooked fork
and even Mork from Ork
would prefer them to pork.

Brains from Spain,
jalapenoed or plain
but first let me explain
that the drippings may stain.

Hedgehogs!
Sweet hedgehogs!
Are like candy for the gut
believe me you've never had them in custard but
please be careful not to glut.

Have you ever eaten
mice beaten
into a frothy puree
and topped with crÃ¨me brulee
by a chef who's so gay
he could make dogmeat delicious?

Nutritious?
Of course!
You want the eyes of a horse
steamed over mussels straight from the source
for your second course.

Arachnids?
Your fat kids
will love our spider muffins
and our puffin blood toughened
by a night out in the rain.

But do not forget
our dogshit baguette!
Trust me it's delightful
don't let the name leave you frightful.

Might I interest you
in a toad with the flu?
The pilot just flew
in from Bulgaria with two.

Though I have to tell you
truly nothing can top
our cream of the crop
for this menu's finest
is the baked werewolves' vaginas.

So, may I take your order?

A Big Mac?

Whatever, it's your funeral.

Milestones

1999: Raoul Dunkin's first play, The Touch of Love, is put on in the commune break room by giggling staff reporters who find it unguarded in Dunkin's desk.

Now Hiring

Park Ranger. Duties include curtailing activities of bears, from large-haired picnic-basket stealing fun-lovin' bears to savage, towering vicious grizzly bears. Encountering bears is unlikely within the office, but your presence should finally shut up bear-phobic Ivana Folger-Balzac.

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4.	Salad Euthanizer
5.	The Mysterious Ouijigenie

Bouncing Against Injustice
I am a beach ball You bet your balls Round and colorful inflated and plastic I piss you off at concerts I lure you into the deep end drown you, dumb fuck I am the Hungry Hippo I eat your marble always eating your marbles until I am the... (6/27/05)

Phil Spector's Hair
Rising high like a psychedelic mushroom cloud so loud without a sound Holy Jesus, did you see Phil Spector's hair? Big like Canada Big like the sun Big like an idea whose time has come Phil Spector's hair is like a Zen koan Through which the wind... (6/6/05)

Self-Fornicated
Kiss me, you beast with the golden toes the arches of your eyebrows like a broken McDonald's sign the smacky wetness of your lips like the maw of a paint-stained flower (love me, Venus Flytrap) Absorb me swallow me whole crush my bones with... (5/30/05)

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Milestones

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