hate is fickle prex and corny rubber tubing.
prex is missionary style sex with wabidash.
wabidash is a word for when your friends
can’t tell whether or not they want to save your life.
fear is frigid feeling rapping on the shield of sil.
we cannot go where they cannot break us. nah.
free love is dying for we are a spear that is a bird.
and i cannot give you what i do not have. so take up your torch, holy one.
but really i see the figures gathering in the road.
one thousand years of lampstands burning wicks.
dogs that eat circuses for tricks.
clock nithtock and clock nithtick.
that’s scary right, the overthrow….
well, go into the whole and entire to die.
it cannot matter if you never forget it. yes?
she is more holy than all your gods combined, christian.
so sam some fix and guard your nix with plenty of planes.
no one knows. they wail and scream. go home again, little kite freakradio.
for we are not samson. yet.
i cannot write in english if I am to live nor survive. do it right.
