Child’s play.

A father’s gay.

Gay as an unfinished gazebo, if not fantastic fence.

A fantastic fence built by an impoverished opioid addict.

An impoverished opioid addict married to another addict undergoing chemotherapy.

Another addict undergoing chemotherapy formerly married to a freak caught fucking her chihuahua.

And a buddha lies broken in my backyard.

Broken by a man named Child fired over his gazebo.

Can the impoverished opiod addict make the gazebo fantastic, too, helped by a chihuahua yapping at his boots?

Can he transform the Child’s play before a father dies from an unfinished heart?

Life is more than suffering.

What face did you have before your parents were born?