I let the stoned calico cat through the door, wantonly telephoto in all his contradictory parallax nonsense, he eats a block of dense amber cheese.

he tells me to write some poetry now telepathically daydreamed devotedly lapping alba, spooning up alba, watching her lips wrap around a roach or a shower scene,

spooning up alba landless with a roach in the lips of alba

alba swimming in, a waltzer pornographically filthy poetry
PRIMO IN THE LIPS DE ALBA!