Skin is easily influenced By another’s lip But stone keeps its form in in easy goose-step When one keeps those at a distance by mental walls Then patronizing assemblies erupt in surplus
Sleek flexuous needs spill from a lame guitar’s longing This kind pettifog could break down nations Harrowing narcotics seep into eyes first no mater the vain The spider silent unblinking eats its pray alive The earth eats some children so others can feast But these things seem too true to believe
The girl of Suggestion pt. 4
I had to give her credit She was right She was true in her intention But not in her exicution For when she got up to leave The boots squeeked and wadded through the mire And her lega were bandy and open for suggestion And she needed such For suggestion keeps the truth in line And that is where faith comes in
The girl of Suggestion pt. 3
This adamantine conviction held her through her diatribe She spoke of touched boys and harisie She spoke of failed little men sat high on people’s dreams She spoke of the need and poverty in the sole of the giver She spoke of the receiver and how he failed his fleshy lord She spoke of demons and pagans and homeless too She spoke of excess and stained glass and the pain of a jew She...
The girl of Suggestion pt. 2
The plenum of words were put out in the same vast Knowledge as the heathen who writ it prior And good will would be ashamed For no mater how hard he should hunt The tongue will keep her steady beat
A girl of Suggestion pt. 1
The hircine girl could propitiate her athiest’s propagation And only then could the man in rain boots across the table Be subdued by his daughter’s matramony of degeneration and Higher thinking and the rain boots were of no use
And i Exploited a Prayed Upon Feeling for Readers
An ad rem succession from a turbulent life Now full of vomit and alcohol Flittering moonlight on a piano that could sing to ease The pain that chokes on the dust gathering on the baby grand Fuck the sinuses of you past love fettering in the bed For now they stay peaceful in their new satin sarcophagus And nooses are hard to come by If they came so readily before
What’s amazing is not me But the world and how i’ve left it What’s amazing is not me But the tomb i have erected What’s amazing is not me But race race i have destroyed What’s amazing is not me But the shelf i am employed What’s amazing is not me But the inebriation i bespeak What’s amazing is not me But the locket that i can’t keep...
Clean for Kids
The divorcee can spruce the house But the chimny will still stay out For the walls are easy to hide behind And the window let the draft become the enemy The prosthetic offspring shiver with a cold apprehension With little hope comes little reprise in the way of a breast So they hunger for what they can’t have Sustanance seems a trifle A broken cry for attention dressed on a plate...
The lemming eats but a morceau Of culture to follow it off the cliff It could thrive on its intestine But then the what would it color it’s fur Keeping it so gray is a talent after all
Then the light looked at the pachyderm’s Eyes that was holding it And it saw that they were sown shut and so was his mouth The lantern asked to be put down And so the blind dumb heathen did so And knelt and prayed And the light thought its work done And left for some one new
The boy and his lamp looked for a new host It was brought to a tramontane cottage High yet lo yet perfect of sorts All the ducks in a row in the house prayed for presents At a christmas they already had alot to eat And snort and keep in a closet So the light moved on because the candles dripping Should keep the place lit it though
A ray of light shown from this blind urchin Onto another in the depths of his own filth Brought to there his home by the mammonism By jingoism and his blood spilt for Nirvana He hacked out a living as he hacked out a lung And the light left his form for light seemed not enough
The Vilipend was brought and sought by the king The most potent thing I’ve ever herd Was brought to my dumb ear By this boy given a lantern, but cursed blind
Hearts are Won by the Mind
It became the fornication of sense and leisure The work of the few is the same as the many if the many underweigh the rule Neet lines are met but the ink is spilt By the captian set to spill over the hilt With naivete the circle of life has now deformed to a cordate fool
Race in Doses
Are the demons real For the burled ivory Dose not account for the smooth of the ebony And exoteric taste of race For a plaet deemed fit to taste human And this auscultation of the heart could not be graver
As the man watches time he watches the mirror of sliver decay In front of him And glares with vehement glee at his countenance But it is not about the personage but about the person’s crime He sees a prize he cannot have And a sole he must possess to find So he should take the man and make him of himself The man is the mirror for the depressed contacts Who thinks he can see It clearly...
Glory is a Tentative Thing
Wish not for glory For glory brings none but a reason to fall To obtain the trophy Means to collect dust To acquire a skill Means to be expected to use it To depone in god Means to testify in you And why would the wanton man find That he has already been there the whole time
Sway the Swayed
The hysteria of the hipster’s screed Was not to be taken lightly For the man decided alone in towers Is not diffrent from the man who could be to be Assurance seems to be only in allowances And inverse dramatizations Because you felt irony Even if the true truth never really came to ever be
Let the freedom-fighter Dream
The rat with a paint brush needs Needs not the Piacular that the patriarch tends to dole But the dole is now given in charity as well For the rat must be taught to keep a steady hand Less, he become lest of the vallor man
You pretentious yankee wine-cooler You devil vain drinker You lick the cunt because you’re entitled You are supposed You crib a bible from a Ginsbergian fuck up on the street You filiopietistic punk should grovel at his feet You are no original Except in lost deceit
Because it Has Been done Or finished Or loved
And he slit his wrists because the alter was too clean Tis here, tis hear that the sultan could not stand So the mall was erected in a orgy of spending and perversion And this perversion has been done Just as the world has been spoke the creed has been done Just as fear has been alive so have the dead And just as repetition has thrived so has the crow on which We stand
Asking for Uneasy Endings
And they died like bones Set like stones on a lion’s thrown Like I fell into stars with drerry junky eyes The earth looked so pied Like a drunkerd’s sermon On a glittering subway pulpit Fenced off with stench and pre-notions Premonitions ignored like fine thread Around the neck of the sword Tied a nuse fast and loose For it seemed to be all but a giver’s plee
And one Found Nowhere Again
And Caprice took the transcendental baby to a hight Of never knowing but only in a dream And Lord took the realist to a nowhere Too content to be writen And both were lost And both were exactly the same in opposition And both were there for those who were to gone to need it
The imagrent and his Jesters
Like the royal family on a cramped imagrent vessel The burgeoning idea is still as it becomes just as his subjects The excogitateing mess is now not sure of his truth But only in his oppinion And that he lead this body in a greatest stand imaginable But the men he used to call his glare as they should For the crown glares at them just as hard The king with mud and a urinated blanket Now...
Mask of Clarity
The Doyenne of the loom never got a mark of valor For her tasks of mediocrity for a war fought with steel The Pastor fell short of the verbosity that he spewed He started with the peroration and ended as a tired whimper The Vagabond lacidasical and fornicating with self Leaves none to be desired for ones cannot want him less The life by which the previous lead Is that the billboards vie for...
And the revolutionary was set to the guillotine As the next generation looked on as the pigeons they were Soon to copy all that sank to the earth before them All the blood ran through the cobble stones like the burgeoning Ships ladened with ironic bivouac And the hulls were cast by the bones of the iron breather The proletariat and his self-gratification was as sickening As his teeth...