Sunday, February 13, 2011

Eat the Languague

To the Bones

"Subway stairs"

Like a dog with a bone

Like a broke finger reaching for god’s pill or sour mash

Nuclear explosion radiate women’s tit’s to the size of born babies.

His real name wash Jr. His father had a gruff voice.

My name as a writer is the little microphone

Let you face look up young rogue.

See his smile. They are secret lies.

See her smiles. They are not for you.

They are all against you.

Babies living want your carbon ass right out of this god damn earth.

Back to people. I loathe them. Most of them. Realize When I say loathe

Idont mean it in the sense of a fourteen year old writer looking for affection.

I feel good exposing haters on a blog. It’s a easy nice thing to do. Suck on this dar shit hulking day

I saw my father look at my work and tear it up. Lay o your lawn mis your own Classes

This is my Life my News Paper. What else am I going to write about.

If you ever blocked me in Zeambie. I would ask you if you believed in love

You would say yes.

Just pass me.

No comments: