deepundergroundpoetry.com

No Thing At All No Thing Doing

man-up yr whimsy, boy...tis
� � � � �phlimsy...tis faux /
� �justanother peek'ed anagram for mortal
� � � � � � � � � � � � � � � pro-pulsion
of d'ugly troot tha'slips outta
� � � all
� � � our
� � � ass � � � � wholes �/ �a w'holy
� � � � � � � � � � � � � � �meatA4
� � � (knot 4thee feign of heart........d'ye catch
� � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � �driiiift,
� � � � � � � � � � � � � � � �honeybabe-tastyflower?)

eye'll won't never ever walk in my fckn shoes anyhow no'more,
& � � what � �of � fuckaroodle �d'ye think yr
� � � � � � g o I n g � 2do � a'bout �it ?....why
eye'll steel yOur shoes &
conker yr head for thee champeenship , conkin wit ballpeen,
� � � � � � � � � And Then
phrenologize thy lumpings so's that Finely Wee
� � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � Will
� � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � Know
� � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � whoo � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � you
� � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � � are ?

penilties forthcoming from thee penile-colony
� � � � � to make of us of an X'ample
� � � � � � of rite vs rong
� � � � � � � � �a n d
whether thee shitheads coming forth in their
� � � � � � finest neo-bleu toiletseat
� � � � � � � � �chapeau[s]
are up to,up for, this ticky'leash issue of
� � � � � � all Our Best Thinking
� � � � � � �having long'go gone
� � � � � � � � � to rot,

� � � � � � � �asswill wee

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