Untwist my sack and lay waste to the pain dark's going to bring you snorkeling fame † releasing my bollocks gelding my name with my gnarly old withered writing cane tattooed on my ass with a Jack Daniels stain sitting on the curb waiting for the society train to play catch up with my proclaim in my narcissistic one-seat campaign
Many motes of gathering quotes "putting another nickel in" † a dark forest has come to spawned with many gnats in different suits coming to your house to roost with bone splinters of salutations like polyps of narcissistic shadows of gratuitous gadflies in one's soup groping the withered minds "putting another nickel in" † without offering a cracker... it ain't nuclear physics if one has a fly swatter
The vast majority of labour was unpaid. However,a few paved the way to being successful in their days. To amass and hold onto their economical gains for a century, particularly in the hundreds of centuries. These former babies of genocide. Crime against humanity,within centuries. Thrived. Despite. Their lives being once binded,in many horrific ways.
Through freedom,entrepreneurship and intelligence,became millionaires,in their days. These determined courageous individuals,paved the way for todays.
A wilted shade of haunting discourse daunting shadow-abiding quartz warts Siding with a crooked voice and the emotes of morts Sounding a shadow of disillusion † a †victim of a twilight conclusion of the self-assuming force † Screaming, "You've Got Mail."
Kissing twilight's soul tasting its lips as I abandon the fools in their carpools dusting the moon as they yakety yak sipping through straws their Prozac spanking their monkey without a church key now that a pull tab is all the rage I'm going to get myself a friggin 12 gage setting the record straight "Shoot 'em for he run now" sipping through straws their Prozac
Screaming, a little scream now cooling my jets. Evocative kismet haunting aspersions. Upon my tallow, of twilight's vanity from a narcissistic decanter of Forget Me Nots, dripping. Of who is sweeping her off her feet now as I molder in deep silence. Sounding my urethra with "Cathy's Clown." Tapping my cock's xylophone. Screaming, a little scream, now cooling my jets. Feeling as If I'm a celebrity. † †
What you may harbor in Budweiser beer † fitting it between crackers and a minuet † a long line to washed-out Muenster † canonized by a smoking good cheer in my dark scribblings hills of beans † bypassing the Tums, something that I et on the flip side of a planchette marionette peeling its withered store-bought rind † raising a goose egg of nothing earned † it's a long line to washed-out Muenster † fitting it between crackers and a minuet
I ignore texts I let the phone ring Itís nothing personal Sometimes, I have those days where I just donít feel like talking to anyone, and I hope you understand how rough things can be. ✍️write: 🥀နευւ🙇♂️βⁱιιυ🍁
Of dives and descent, all falling down to immortals' obsession, no confession of haunting paraphernalia unwound a glitch in the gloom, all falling down † stuck in a placebo buried in the ground feeling death's little contractions listening to the early bird catch the worm of dives and descent, all falling down
Not knowing Shakespeare or Marlowe, wanting to dance, playing D'Artagnan, zombies among the wallflowers as they run their hamster wheel, rejected by life's little pleasures, leading with a carrot, until, chasing their own ghost
Waiting on the archangels choir to rumble with stained memories of the moon's solstice fainted embryos, prima-donnas, and Twilight's eucharist awakening the carnivore's olfactory of dark luminosity, listening to the cannibals of nature fricassee a hoarse voice of Mephistopheles at the macabre cotillion and sewing contempt for Gabriel's trumpet. Waiting for the soul train to let me off at the depot of sanity as I weep the seekers of the good life in my dreams with no time for hypocrisy. †