Wednesday, August 19, 2009

poem

Workman's Comp

Crippling crunches stole my integral appetite. It was off the wall and out of mind. Calender titty mags and old polariods don't seem to hang around much anymore. Beside you tongue calisthenics most nights kept me up and Adam
if you weren't
clipping nose hairs already. Funny, these games we play got arthritis from too much Patty Duke and cake for passive destructive dietary ignorances. I'm gassy and you swallowed a bag of Douglas fur. If you stopped exposing your inner feelings and moonshine maybe we would get something done around here. Too bad the coconuts are
so young I
bore them to tears and tea leaves last week. Rims ricochet ink deposits on your wrists in your dreamt future. Did you see any rainbows crawling across my carpel tunnels? When was this supposed to happen anyway? I can't care if you
would have loved
to be blonder in the last months. You have got this growth on your back and a twin eating a Puerto Rican just 2 hours from your parents house. I never said it was something they made trophies for at the convenient lottery stands. Hold my eyelids, Henry Darger's life styles appear more associated with vowels in a rapid increase. Whatever, you purr hypoallergenic kitten's breath. Until I swallow more salt and pepper, I am sure I don't really know
you by now.

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