the poptart sizzles on an open flame
as the cookie monster floats atop the mountain of shame
where the man with a long white beard raped a cotton sweater
that was worn by david menthol who was a guy living in cold weather
where he invented a cure for the common cold
that nearly killed that really old
man jippi when he got that terrible fever
down in mississippi from an ugly beaver
all because he was a hippie
and in the rivers he would skinny-dippy
especially when he drank and smoked and crapped out love
which would condense into a beautiful white dove
that always flew away into the bright night
and explode at an unimaginable height
and it would rain down little tiny bits
of dove parts and nasty brown shit
that drifted down the black sky without aim
and landed in a barrel just before a man came
who grabbed it and dumped it into a big fat cart
which dumped the remains that were made into poptarts.