deepundergroundpoetry.com
Incineration of one's skies: Word in a sentence in my mind that was never really there
Severed tendons trying to cut my slice of heaven.
grace me with her God poison,
stench of poverty.
grit those molars,
stardust.
malignant,
graffiti over this American pervert;
watch them piss in the backyard like a flock of sheep.
empty fear by the wheelbarrows,
is it still pleasure; steel padlocked windows?
life reeks of caged Deja vu
spectators peeking up
from cracked concrete snapshots;
sneaker level view.
violate me with everything you can throw.
virtual swim up bars
still plant a smile on my face.
take a leisurely lap around the pool of my lies
in the darkness of my city and the ashes of my skies.
grace me with her God poison,
stench of poverty.
grit those molars,
stardust.
malignant,
graffiti over this American pervert;
watch them piss in the backyard like a flock of sheep.
empty fear by the wheelbarrows,
is it still pleasure; steel padlocked windows?
life reeks of caged Deja vu
spectators peeking up
from cracked concrete snapshots;
sneaker level view.
violate me with everything you can throw.
virtual swim up bars
still plant a smile on my face.
take a leisurely lap around the pool of my lies
in the darkness of my city and the ashes of my skies.
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