Visceral Impulses during the Bird Breakfast

Dulcid, as the last flickers of the Western candle fade away... back in the fog , my mind reving at a lower R.P.M. , out of tune. The Ceylonese carrot dangles as the donkey days approach.
Another year strolls by, more windows of bright sparkle amidst the black canvas of the Third World. Six to be exact. Unemployement , stultifying the cells, is more altered perception due ; instilling inane laughter, the euphoric tonic of the CNS ?

A state of mind insued by an unemployed penis. Sexuality stagnant .... mentally undressing what ?
Where is that slot, the heterosexual crease of peace ? The dryest year in the bush so far , if / when torrid rain should fall again, run for the rubber shelter....