Friday, November 7, 2014
Symptoms of Death
Paper is evergreen, with candleneck stuck up the theoretic lightbulb.
A Japanese sprite’s fear of shopping awakens a bias for cuddly stuff.
For where he pees, the woods bury Andrew. Insects KKK HIV.
At a party, clean puke’s 80’s inertia;
dirty death in the face of a sleeping bag’s port.
A gorier mom would’ve cleaved your dad’s diseased beer-projector.
Satan swings buckets of waterlogged sexts, in Minecraft,
weeping – on the very spot where a corpse sucks the mortician’s dick
smiling tiny fast smiles because
apart from the obvious splashback
symptoms of death include the turbo-smile
in miniature, psychosomatic red balls
and a violently ripped off breast –
bummed out snakes splattering around in glacier fluids
as green ground-shift eats itself.
Anxiety in a continuation of robots blending among ghosts.
Radio to the point of overkill.
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