Regain the Feasible

In confused mattress fumes
There is a scooter, a banana, and a make-up futurist
The last calls himself the End
The next large beginning, after the post-op, is what he calls him


It's hard to handle the pieces of  '99 handlebars
When his surgical gear is trapped in the iron can
And all of his feet are tamed, wrapped in the silknet
And it's wet and I lost my watering can
But can I borrow your sponge?