I’m as horny as knives

I’m as horny as knives

Thrust into flesh

All I can do

To relinquish the pain

Is suck down new flavors

Of ciders

Those cold since the brewshop

Began.

Thoroughly into

Overtaken by the wind

Wiiihhhnnnd

Wieeeene

Dribbling down the overture

Proactive engagement

Killing those willing to die

And to see the face of

The smug vampire

It’s either war

Writing

Sexy biting

The neck torn open for two

I wish my bottle had a belly

Fat man oyster stew.

Buddah makes me

Howl at the moon

I guess you could say

I’ve got a lease on my pentalty tomorrow

My credit so fucked from atwater

Backwashing into buckets

For money collected by fountains

Is still phosphorescent

The smell of a copper tainting

It still looks green to me, duuude!

I think it’s your mother’s token

I dropped another ounce of Hoboken

This jersey shore of meat production

The facility no longer operates

So what is it good for?

I guess the clamshell reunion.

Tomorrow and the turn

Every Thursdays prune

I eat enough to fat my gut

I just wish I could shut

The doors to the windows

Of rhyme and chant

My little meatpocket

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