Tag Archives: lick

Ragged downladder.

Seek to dissipate boyhood
whilst maintaining desire:

Overt panderings &

Inverted wonderings &

Bells yonder ring

Knells echoing in caves
& Under things

People don’t say what they mean when
they’re pondering.

The wearing-vest chest that is

blessed as caressed,

Cut up & bloodied

to buy time to be studied.

The powder of crystal

So fine in a mist wall

(A shrouding shawl wrapped

And wrenched ’round my face)

And

Ricocheted ’round the place

Is like light out in space

Braving chasms of quarks

& light years of dark

The danger of sparks

It’s a lark so

I don’t know why you drink

Your light spirits of stink

Don’t expect things to link

Or you’ll be in the clink

Or trip over your brink

Hmm.. What should it be about Honey eh?

A mounted yet talking trout is funnier.

Is great weightless? or grace? .. or space? . ..

Time is one of my only wines
Or: 2 whine is the sum of thy lonely wines?

No

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Pub lick execution.

There’s only room
in a room
for one ego
be that front, back, chat, bath or
bed
This siht is symmetrical
Our bubbles can move
360 degrees around
eachother in a right
emulsion and everyone can share.
There should still be public
executions in the Uk and
USa, then people would work
harder and have fewer children. Mind you there basically are.

The pit of death shall
circle round
and down and bound
the sensing skin
which is akin
to serpentine grains of
wrack & sin scaling
reckoned layer upon layer of
holy rigormortis (Argh Ouroboros!)
Watch your attitude
Don’t, anonymous person, ever f%cking
call me dude if you don’t
usually call people that
And I genuinely like your hat
by the way.
And don’t, if your a man in full dPM,
call me darling because
I will find a gap through which to wink you it back and
shit shul’ get all awry and awkward 🙂 for (only?) thee
I’m twenty three plus three not three
&You’re probs in the Tee A and not the army
Combat career thee not me

By the w.. Nice car-
Seen’s you ask
I’ll have a gin martini please,
two or three o lives and
swirled, not stirred so I can
Shake it til’ we’re out of this
whirled.
First with ice to get the cooling process nice…
Flow follow
By the w.. what’s the litre-age on that mate?
(Do I truly give an ass of rat?)
I soon retire to tend the flowers
that grow to me in witching hours
and come and grow deep from dirt sour
“.. wuuh..That sounds strange man”
“And so do you,
and so do you and you and you, and so do you, and so do y..(all down the queue….)…….. “