If You Think You Know Who I am… March 24, 2012
guzzle my words like Gator-aide cuz’
they’re cheap in red and put space between
the living wise and the dumb dead. take your
finger off the trigger, aim devotion at hatred
aim love at devotion I swear hatred soon becomes
sacred. Acrid begins the day of so many who are
sadly stuck on substance A B or C– yep I should
know, because I walked around invinsible high
like a pitched tent until the weather changed–
This lame mansion that the world lives within,
every single one of our asses are seperatistists–
cause if one person farts the whole world runs for
cover and there ain’t enough cardboard boxes to
construct the cubicle; a space of one’s own not to
smell one another’s ass-gasses. So humankindly
decide today who you want to follow, from the
inside out. Then like ant’s in an ant farm, let’s get
organized; and figure out what this world’s biggest
faux issue looking in the mirror is really all———.
Abother some day December 28, 2011
on the same toilet paper roll–
perforated for the illusion
of the possession of a private self.
serial in nature siblings in relations
fuck like horny bunny rabbits, then
some days smell like cum in a bucket.
I eat four Reese’s Cups (or more),
I smoke a pack of cigs (more or less),
and swallow pots of coffee (notinthatorder).
I want to back hand you for the experience, and
airborne still to score the goal in Taiwan.
In the end, it’s just another abother someday.
- The Writing Plan [Part 2] – work it baby (writingshard.wordpress.com)
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