eck, the agitation
these camelhair
sweaters swirling
in angel piss
one third demon
semen
I'm in a low fog
endless rows
of bonewhite
cocks emit
ethereal buzz
"emmm!"
they slurp the moisure
as my ankles
begin to itch. in any
mean fixation
they are holo
graphic tugs
from holy
lands of long dead
beats. inbetween
my fat blood lump
toes I caress the
hollow-cheeked prick
brill, it clings
from a demure mound of feces
its eye turns up to sputter
but my day
is long and I'm
tired of him.
from the land of
orchard midg
et. cock
I direct myself
to the forest of
iridescent vag
but
I have no map
and nary a troll
we'll crane from
wanking
to kindly direct me south
the silver moon is out
one millimeter thick
measured on the gelatin fingers
of primed chimapnzees
swinging madly from
the stars hung
in lumps of cookie dough
greedily gobbled
by Summ(anus.
lost.
stuffing
pinky splints
on benevolent
crotches for min
imum wage
age ten years
with a stream
of fiber glass
slobber passing
the plague of
resignation
to the knees
of severed faith
I hobble to God
on the ancient level
my talents:
given two legs
returned with four.
