Rat Horde

That soft serve salmon I be slamming Ain't ragging on the imagined dragon Nineteenth round of don't wake the llama Layered like frittata sidestepping the drama Futurama used go be a nightly routine Now just another fondly recalled thing Scalded ring again as I wash my hands Burned skin ran with the pink color brand Lorazepam sans the coconut oiled pan Kaleidoscopic man without a life plan Growing dandelions with candied bygones Lafcadio neither a gunslinger or lion Educated by Mr. Libido himself Gyrations are sensations pray for health Safety shelved okayest as a mantra Mediocrity is a consequence of karma Dharma lord with jaded long sword Stab at my own feet to slay the rat horde Scurry up my leg beset a case of plague Cure vague found on the list of Craig More bed rest triple authentication test Pests still find my mind is the best nest Among the rest of these borrowed thoughts Prescriptive in my handing out of oughts