Disgusting Holes

Running in dread from the The sickly secret of a Bee’s honeycomb, My nightmares are full of Buttered English muffins That morph into Deathstalker scorpions, And then back again into fields of cooked Corn on the cob. From the corner of my eye I see the Condensation on the inside …

Read moreDisgusting Holes

%d bloggers like this: