deepundergroundpoetry.com

P.P.E.

tis the season for the irritable bowel syndrome
happy birthday like i ran out of bullets
always a crowd pleaser but never really the one
nobody brings home a salad made of calluses
but shiny new tattooes and a mouthful of gravel
keep the snakes in the well
i don't wanna know your secrets
i hope you are completely disgusted by mine
yeh i think that's an arm

wet the sponge
these electrodes fit like hell
a body is just a body once you cross that line
by the time it sinks in
you are already doin hard time
what's a wish?
why is it ok to eat fish?
keep lighting roman candles backwards
but no worries folks
i'm wearing sunglasses
Written by johnrot
Published
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