Tuesday, 10 August 2010

Getting Some

It holds form but lift the lid
Take a look

It’s like under a rock
Or a redneck garden

It smells of old milk and meat
But soldier’s, gym instructors,
Full-blown artists possessed by
Caprice egos

They find it and know
It’s not theirs

It’s just timing
And sentences
It’s walking and doing things
You don’t want to

See those widows
That repeat the same day
Those deformities

See the poor with their kids
They’ve got it

See the diseased, the fatties,
The misogynists
They’ve got it

The unhygienic
Sexually promiscuous
The beasts

Them too

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