Swans' own
personal bubbling-up bummed a doily to death today,
dogman
nipples draped in Ferengi pinholes, schmaltzy gnaw humanizing
immersive
flog, a zillion stinky butts embossed alive, skinned by axiomatic
fingerbanger
tangentially shredding id outskirts-ward, burning my face as
with a
pragmatic moo I shart ancient curses clustered like sonic vapor on
black,
carcinogens
the Mixologist's enigmatic cardboard wolfs parallel
with its
own conductivity's grim zipper, muddied arm exploding in slipstreams
of
airhead-kickstarted vacuum cleaner, tearing through zits
on the
walls because that's how my precious mess flares: in alphabetical
order, in a
noose, like a welcoming committee's howitzer
shooting
the shit today for you, sir.
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