Saturday, August 16, 2014

Stygian Salami

The salami wasn't catching
Or clicking into place but
It fixed itself eventually –

The curse of a wallflower
In circulation in concrete

Disengaged by honing the
Zombie fusion via a cave
That lacked contrast under
The umbrella of a fluorescent

Finger arching loosely like
The foul nuclear scalp of
A rubber chicken raping
The furniture –

A sadomasochistic Popeye
In sandbox frame rates
Slow as a mollusc encapsulated
By ghost town music

Swooning in its seductive
Pulp and killing Snoopy
In its fake Meggido lasers –

Antihero squirt like a
Disembodied piece of shit
In amphibious patterns of
A religion predicated on
Industrial glands in a jar

Necrophilia reserved for
The new dinosaurs, i.e. humans,
The entire ninja –

Fermenting gore measurable
By stygian social media
And the blasphemous data storage
Of a single scrotum 

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