Poppy cock

Flourish, entice.
Nourishing lies.
 
Encouraging dice.
Unlucky disguise.
 
Murdering cries.
Buried by mice.
 
Maker’s delight.
Time calls to fight…
 
Anyway,
 
I fought a lot to quench my hot and seal the
never lasting plot on severed bods I never  
thought I’d own the mud to cover rot and let my
thoughts be better than a never seen redder
pepper shot forever married feathered broads
on parking lots with sagging tits and clever  
frauds upon the reign standing bi-polka dotted  
liver shots hanging by like river rudds on monday  
after-looning shiver spots I kid a lot I kid you not  
for every grown man fills a spot on every lone  
man’s quiver shot he missed a lot it seems by  
just a thought and seems redeemed by glistening  
moths on barely dried up christening cloths of  
merely flied off chores and green/blue bruised  
up spots of dried up blood rot it smells like death  
a lot so better not have a taste my god this has  
gone on way too long please let me stop ok some  
more why not I mean I’d never thought you lot  
would have the gut to read this mess of words  
lacking punctuation information dedication and  
what not for what I ask without interrogation  
marked rewarded suffocation styled word-binged  
flavoured neighbour talk mocked up craver stalk.
 
*inhales*
 
RGBlue lit potato wedged brew with tomato  
sprinkled camel piss soaked cannabis smoked  
cans of fish both bad at this nourishmental  
handle this and that forever bitch and bad I  
hope I never get the hang of noose related  
heart attacks moose related outer backs  
trailed off tracks to never crack the nutted butter  
biscuit limp like mom and dad in bare backed trailer  
trashed sleeping bags aftermaths of iced blue eyed  
meth heads on stretcher beds who could forget half  
inbred surrogate cattle hags in straddled postures  
with milked out freckled racks in Cadillacs?
 
I don’t.