Bop Gun

I'm the same  
motherfucker  
that I ever was.
 
choke the boomerang sunshine  
croon the hum of a gum-leaf  
festered song,
 
leaving traced fragments  
humor the bumbling gumshoe  
caretaker pith intake
whole baked convalescent  
bed pan president,
 
reached the leveled levee  
breakers quake  
from my vicious  
telekinetic gasconade,
 
consigliere to a  
architects lavish habits  
a fan of all peccadillos  
un-judgmental  
fanning you with  
electric willows,
 
creeping on the inside  
of your razor cream day-scream
tinkering infusing  
tainted dulce nothing's  
 
just to make your  
creme de la carousel  
trickle as licorice parasitic  
Ebola presents,
 
crack and bleed out  
finally you are sharing  
all of thee.
 
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Quietusquill.All Rights Reserved.
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All my poetry is copyrighted and stored in author base. All material subject to Copyright Infringement laws
Section 512(c)(3) of the U.S. Copyright
Act, 17 U.S.C. S512(c)(3), Quietusquill.