Submissions by dkzksaxxas_DanielX (DadaDoggyDannyKozakSaxfn)
POEMS AND SHORT STORIES
Poet Introduction Oct2019 DEATH &THE LADY'CHYLDE..Poems of grief &despair at death of daughter, Edited, formatted, published by Poetic Medics / produced by LULU. /Fall 2009 Danforth Quarterly (Lawrence,Ks) devoted to my poetry & collage'work./
This place, this earth, is quite a convenient place to die, make dead, be dead, all the millions who wanna fuckin folks who don't think like, don't look like, don't fart like they do, and think they be deserving of death because said difference of farticular, aromatics................yo dee doddle oh..........what the fuc1k is with these folks.
I mean do they realize their assholic aromatics come from the same deep, dark, nasty place that evey'one else's shitstink comes from. Jesus f**k.....what the fuck is wrong wit people?...
The Dead Practice Death (better get The Hang of it ! )
Practice dead. Go'head. Ain't any life 'round here anyways. Go'head. Play dead. Practice 'til ye get it down, fucker. Y'know. Practice 'til perfect, and shit like that. Death practice, hey kiddies, Practice !) Practicing Dead (Go'head..... get outta The fckn Way, damn'it.
Loose them binding ties that bind. Lost the fucking car keys again the fucking car keys keys to the fucking car. Lust well bust me me in the skin game, the skin trade, a skinny woman to love. Splay yr bloody innards all over this fakers page, nuance every fckn place til it don't mean a bit of shit any more. Ab'use ...
ARch>>>>>>Devil Anc estor s da nce in me little late-life roomy'room <<>>> at they's UkraniPolski white'n slimey s k i n suckin'eachOther Off (don'bite! don'bite) now thatcha'mention it they skin real looks like fckn Cum! gawdamn........never seen a...
t empo t empestuous storm after stor m battering battering storm of lies (god, how does he live wit him'self? ........how do all those fucking pat'riots (see: "patr'idiots") who attacked The Temple Amerikana live with them-selfs?)
Half-a-million innocent dead Americans DEAD because of time spent g a z i n...
Three Eight Seven Three (there'abouts) Colour By Numbers
A true-liar, thieving your thoughts. Ona atta data dada time.
Peace by piece so foolish- ly as deserves a good'ol asswhoopin'. (You know the kind. Leather straps and belts, all stupid righteousness, slobbering on it's only self ---- but that's a tale told to a different tune).
Now, as of tomorrow, we'll fall into place piece(ably) by piece, so as not to not disturb the Mother Superior. Maybe her god will be-come a bit less fear'worthy. Probably not.