I think you people call these things OTS. prepare for nonsense.

what comes after city life,
skipping stones across the sea
until the games she likes
to play start to benefit me

smiling game show hosts
sick of asking questions and
presidents worrisome smiles
in the face of all the press.

babies crawl cause they
ain't getting any younger,
and the elderlies are
the voices of cruelty -

wrap them all in white dresses,
spin them round to dizziness
hope they stray their selves west
and pray for the wind's existence.

cynicism works for snails and sharks
like bungee cords for humans:
staticcommunication, morbid and obese
views that refuse to say please to you.

to those of you whose lives are spent
lying back and crying something sleazy,
they can hear those moans through
mindconsuming telephones,
quaking poles and nighttime orangeglow.

the senate's back in session now,
slingin' warrants that arrest
your ears from listening. to.

and clarity.

christmas clarence speaking sappy thoughts to dracula -
is it such a wonderful life?

sadism in battle, fetish of the fabulous:
thighs that don't touch her lazy coke habits,
and eyes that don't touch their escaping sight
when they're supposed to, sunken back and
singing soprano melodies from a throat that inspires
sewer droughts in Satan's soulseducing opera house.

so what follows city life if all the screeching
cello strings snap like the addict's wife?
she said it's best to connect if they have something in common.
he said it's best to come back when she's got another dollar for him.
Last edited by spike_8bkp at Sep 27, 2010,