A Jobless Chef.

Legacy Unkempt. Loose teeth vibrate faint within my skull.

As their words late proclaim prodding proud story to tell.

With soundings ineligible as scrunch of old dry, stiffened toast.

Announcing false boast there is no book of destiny to bite as all one’s own, save mutual and several metal rectangle cells that break bite of teeth, vast ‘one’ of science crossing watercolors of lifeless desert’s stormwrought rock by car undriven, by human gleeful thought, contempt of boss nor beneath any but moonless, starless nights unbought. A One of single orange in toiling roll across floors to the mesa of sliced lemon piece leaning in unison like dour dominoe of old or, bored bread of sour dough. The tastebud brief false novelty of the Ages with promise of black hole’s romance of Hollow. While grapes afloat within misty silver bowls of frozen milk, the pudding prep preamble to carrots next, sit amid the glorious selfimposition of stalefree redundancy of my bloodfree selfie video glamour

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