CONTEST: Make An Alphagram Outta This fcknBad Poem, & Win Big!

 
o! be'go begone, ye flashpots of
        wizzdoom,
                  &   tickle me no
                    more
                this tor
                     tur    e .
Theevidence is
           worn wearing thin this cloth'ed
             rag(mamma rag)....neither yOur
  blizz
  nor
  bliss
beneficits balls[of]baring unto thee clutter-kultur
         of too much up-thee-ass
            prosperity


now     thee time has  come
now     thee time has  come
 now     thee time has  come
that it shitsure don'matter
                      wha'fckn Time It Is
                                 wha'Time It Is
                                  wha'Time It Is
                                   wha'Time It Is, How
manytimes I gotta tell ye, huh?
tell ye,tell ye,tell ye,tell ye....huh'How?


yo, them greatbig cargoboatships is outthere
          a'tryin t'kill The Seas to
           make-a-killing in Thee
              Globball EeconOmy

                 meanwhilst

            idiot looters rock'n'rage
        while still dancing th'corpoGod's
            step-buy-step giv'me More,

   as overthere,imbecile butchers sever heads
            to emplease the Other God's
                  bustllood fortunes  \

Query: Do You Think aye'll keep-a-laughing when
         'My Pain' becomes 'real(world)' ?


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