cum shots and circus freaks.
who the hell was zorba the greek?
drunk in daytime
i have dropped off the face of worth
fell 200 hundred stories
without a single paper cut.
set up a tent in my living room
getting prepared for the collapse
life would be better if we all lived in huts.
trying to sell art is like
giving a rock a blood transfusion
a thousand words all competing for real estate in my head
a thousand sounds from ideas dying
and left for dead
rotting and farting
their last gasps
in my overripe
jizz shots hang like icicle cave stalactites
in the mildew nights.