Tuesday, June 2, 2009

Bagger Unbagged

Horse stables surround where the church used to brutalize.
A bagger unbagged gives into his rising.
I would've died if there were still other people and a shower.
I could've died, there are sorrows.
Ass-jammin real wet teens waiting to text my dick size.
I'll stain all day if the blunt lasts.

A stranger is pulling out his pulse.
I know how stupid this has all got to sound, but I'm not nearly
As clever as most poets sucking graves for the camera and bunny-fucking its list.
Never seen the light it's dark as night, never seen the probe on my nipple
It's tight as a dyke.
Tub by tub, the witches from Saturn invent a family stew.

I just want to be your pretty blueberry.
Asking about my shackle size is kind of like asking about dick size.
Like dicks, some shackles are bigger, some are smaller, but most are just right.
Blowing on a chicks' ass before licking her clit is often very appreciated.
I'm walking down the aisle wearing white and my father's never again
Going to eat his mother's fabulous pie.

Handwriting looks exactly the same as I remember it.
It pleads something out of a novel.
We need to get together so you can busy me more.
Nonetheless, a solitary life does fill such an exciting whore.
I stay one step ahead of her eyes.
I drop and drink fast.

1 comment:

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