I’m dripping like a knuckle ripe, all in your mouth, sweet, watery watermelon.
It’s hotter than a bootleg DVD on the backlot of Paramount, hidden in the trunk of a soon-to-be show runner fresh off the welfare rolls.
I’m hungry like one good line on a blank page ready for the promised orgy of metaphor, simile and their trifling twin cousins meter & rhyme.
I’m angry like the earth with a headache from all that frackity-frack-fucking-better think about where you gonna live years from now-fracking!
I’m patient, like a adolescent, peace loving bear not in the mood for human flesh or a fight, so it chooses to run the other way…today.