Thursday, 16 September 2010

n

like that, the anti semite biotics
cleansed my soul (scrot)
and felled the poet tre....wait,
[motif used] cried that fat bloated pope,
pope on a rope to scrub my bare back (arack)
obama, oh mamma, shammanic ritual
long forgetten psyilocybin mushroom juice
dribbling from the lips
dribbling from the ass
and the windows as early morning
condensation (nice sensation).
really, one day this will have to
start
stop
making sense.

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