page 37 postmodern poetry

and nails she is such a good carpenter her tool box is pink and shiny it glistens at me I was trying to read her lips I have worked all my life turning metal into a thing a beauty an expression of my soul I put my heart and life blood into my work it was my pride that rolled off that assembly line so much of life has no meaning it makes no sense it is just things we do to survive to pay the bills and put food on the table boring mundane tasks that we do over and over again lick the lash of her whip her family is pretty rich hotter than all the fucking sheep she is cutting up the best parts to feed the horny Texan the depth and breadth and height wooed by the devil and death camp furnace the skull and the spiders dance while the Texan pets his black and white pussy vegetables and fruits shooting all the three footers music is best when practiced over and over just like sex stroking you over and over in your neat little box we have written you into the schedule a capital shrimp with cannibals who drink beer for breakfast playing at your wooden dildo and smoking Mexican dope shooting our guns you can inbreed with scary mary and produce little antinatalists who hide in the woods making videos for the Gestapo sig heil with my sig sauer a full fucking clip bumping up against her service and Canadian bacon the love is spreading across my cowboy boots the Texan loves his kittens and the harsh realities of the real world you are so fucking special so very fucking special I like you more than all the others you smell so pretty and are fun to play with you don’t mind when I pull out my ropes whip and chains bragging rights to the naked video bringing forth every kind of abomination after its own kind the star of smack down is dead an unbelievable ovation for the people’s champion the rock has something to say about setting your ass on fire I did a video that I put out and took back down the best video that I ever done almost twenty minute of pure bullshit it was the purest stuff never been stepped on pure virgin bullshit you never had bullshit like this before look here sonny I don’t think you can handle it I am watching her over and over again pagan mary can make it happen just like a little kid she is so cute and adorable she puts her lips over the bottle she is doing a splice job I have found that the little things are so very beautiful a passionate talk she is the one to blow my horn betty boop is watching us and she is laughing at us she wants to jump in and help we all watched the pole dancer die on Russian television the judges eat turtle soup and clapped with one hand under the table I was so proud for my Russian ballerina boom we all fall down and die like the plague passing through the town on a pale horse his bandana hiding the rope burns you can feel it but you can’t steal it the funk and blues it is in your bones anything that the radio played you can never change we are lions from creation this is my identity bowing to whatever you like it is a plant it is good for everything doing so much good for everyone rebelling against what a captivated mind making you look for yourself not in a sense of owing time for yourself so you can think for yourself to meditate a consciousness the laws are just a thing nothing to be worried about this guns and prisons of the people who want to hurt you I and I it is not a reality telling it through music the news for the people returning to be the king of kings the earth is the mother and the king will return an example one must follow looking outside of my prison