A razorblade frisbee
and melting clocks
drift into the dream word
of the abstraction of love and poetry
it is a surreal place of marmalade Crimson
and vomited devotion
to the depressed and lonely old men
I have never heard od a peter sucking
just the other way round
where toady wart, on wrinkled buttocks
cry out grammar, and try to put a spell on me
who is pathetic, for they laugh
then I laugh at their childish laughter
The M-16 rattles off 30 round
it's clip empty from .22 rounds
the fifty caliber is glowing red
it barrel warping for fire
hellfire is just a Barbeque
of rotten filets wrapped in lengths of swine
from the shanks of ordinary neighbors
the taste of Jasmine orders
sicking in the fouled dirty restroom
of a gas station in Arkansas
as giant bugs hit you wind shield
splatting like Iano's advise
What is poetry
but the sound of a baby grand piano
smashing on top of Iano's head.
and melting clocks
drift into the dream word
of the abstraction of love and poetry
it is a surreal place of marmalade Crimson
and vomited devotion
to the depressed and lonely old men
I have never heard od a peter sucking
just the other way round
where toady wart, on wrinkled buttocks
cry out grammar, and try to put a spell on me
who is pathetic, for they laugh
then I laugh at their childish laughter
The M-16 rattles off 30 round
it's clip empty from .22 rounds
the fifty caliber is glowing red
it barrel warping for fire
hellfire is just a Barbeque
of rotten filets wrapped in lengths of swine
from the shanks of ordinary neighbors
the taste of Jasmine orders
sicking in the fouled dirty restroom
of a gas station in Arkansas
as giant bugs hit you wind shield
splatting like Iano's advise
What is poetry
but the sound of a baby grand piano
smashing on top of Iano's head.