I) A Spacesuit Full of Urine; On the Orbiting City of Kalamazoo      This coffee tastes distorted. A swank fruitcake   contemptible martyr, because I will. The nitrogen is   fine. It delves in to hypothesis and says, "young lad, so   mimical and used. You feel small. Simulated.   Advantageous."       So they kick you when you're down, but I'm Jack   Frost's son anyhow. Wearing my red shoes out of the   wreck.       Chill the backseat in an icetray. Foreign plasma drifts   on ravished moonrays because I sit. Endorphin thinking   fine. Poison pens scribed circumflected. Self respected.       "Amen", said the spine. Bisect and leer. "This diatribe   project through me and tear in."       Englishman with Martian women, you crawl back like   your Monday couldn't 'cuz I still hold you trendy style.   Wave fake bills. Bloody miles and wars fifteen million   minutes through elation and truce in K-Zoo.       "The wedding reception went great, too bad about   the inflamed thyroglossal cyst." - A Short Practice of Surgery