Sunday, August 5, 2012

One poem

                   holy promises written in the sand
                               laissez-faire information has backfired
                   with blue screens in ubiquity
                               a taste for theft and memes acquired

everyone's got their drug of choice
        that's not a secret they are keeping from you
        it's how you use it
            and what you lose in the process
        that's got shit tied up

and i'm stepping on gravestones
        a good solid footing after the
sucking mud. It's the stereotypes
        that pull me down, the mire
and blindness of generalization. In
        this hazelnut orchard: where
the meat falls an epitaph rises


  1. meat falls as meat balls in your meat halls roll through meat malls?

  2. oh and you def look like a femmy meat ball in that picture