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On the cusp of true aging, having accomplished nothing; thank god my Spotify listening age was 22
Tan dubes, bootcut jeans from Dunnes, in N64 blue Was “when I’m”, now it’s “then I was 64”, dude Skin saggy, cracked and lined Still able to crack a laugh, drop a good line at an opportune time Cracking a can, barely shift hear cracking in the hands Looking back, Lot’s wife backglanced got salted…
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Who would have thought that a religion consistent primarily of bone tossing, stick placement, and frothmouted fireside feats of drug-stoked imagination, could result in the creation of lasting works?
Into the ganja Throwing hacked off hands, parts of a man, into the ngenga I am an avenger, I do not fear adventure From here I shall venture Out, bring censor to this louddread sceadugenga If you provide us with that censure The sensei said with a lord’s surety Surely I would be made a…
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To improve my cardio, thereby completing my Garda Evasion skill tree, running up and down Mountpelier Hill, kissing the devil’s arse; submitting each time I summit
Spring into action when it’s drastic Swagged out but every waist’s elastic because I’m doing regular races Paying with black or platinum plastic, six zips on my Killstar jacket Near sick worshipping the sink, at the brink triple six Held up a Brinks, it’s not what you think Way, way past the brink so fill…
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Caught napping against a tree, surrounded by snack packets, banned literature, and forbidden applecores
Don’t care if it’s ripe, bite and try it That’s why I’m turned away from the door at Eden Won’t bother trying, waste my evening Another feature, boring tie in, recognise them from TV Yawn worthy producer on the flight in You’re up early like a farmer’s wife, get a fry in before eight chimes…
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Let Christ’s vilest bride sate her night thirsts on my worst child
She’s in those tights fishermen like Eyes icy like Titan Dress tight I like it Gonna take her like a Viking Choker; means she prefers a pipe diet Coking so extra perverse, leaning in close dirty words in the cloakroom No sleep so we’re up with the early birds, toking off the moody blues.
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Alchemisland 