Tag: writing
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Mutecute
A bite, fuck portion size Contorting and devil cavorting beneath nightskies Brazen fiend with no disguise save his guileful lies Something light, nice and tasty OTO lightcakes maybe What a bake sale that was, baby Rabies, frothing mainly at the labia Breathing laboured Like a roughed up Lion Tamer Short king, David Teymur.
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Slapping a blind lion
In the lake next to me lives a plesiosaur Which I always thought sounded like the name of a Gaeilgeoir You might meet up in Donegal near Grianán of Aileach, the fort I’m going to walk the frigid shore, planning on sailing North No stopping until Hyperborea, and Aquilonian resorts Take my hide-shored boat deep…
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How to kill a self
Two versions of me, wielding knives Both have sworn unimpeachable, unbreachable oaths, on their lives About to face off in an arena, the crowd wild Going to try and pry open the other’s throat One must die, cannot lead two lives at this time My lost suitcase full of convincing masks and notes for unused…
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Boxlife
Have a proper gander, you, the leal At my steel-plated propaganda vehicle Driving down the street, howling repeal repeal Repent, for the end is near! Fuck that, mate, already here Staring out the window, all directions dreary Year’s second collision, with me it’s never nearly.
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Spider boxes bound for the silk factory
Isis, my finest wife, in wine white dyes bowls onlookers over Her fingers swan necks, opal, diamond, ruby, and emerald banded Stolen from Zosha, red squirrel and stole on the shoulder Person of polarities, bipolar; one minute stropping, next laughing hilarity Dancing pantless in abandoneds for planless dealers Scenes from the Moreau paintings in my…