Saturday, March 20, 2010

Hate Mail


2 dead stocks of lettuce shoved straight up the state.

We're sitting around a television, thinking "man, how great."

There's something sick and wrong about Carl Rove ankle deep in pig fat.

And some hippie pitching balls of shit at his extended bat.

Just cuz we're homeless don't mean we don't care.

Just strut down streets oblivious to the alien bodies greeting us.

Said this was true once before.

And I laid down and said just what was true.

Man, can't think about this ivory jug that the tribesman gave to me.

I'm picking cantaloupe out of the couch cracks.

Said I said something about the mountain of feces that's building up on the floor.

We keep racing small children on the floor.

Said something about interlocking wood fittings for a table.

Large crucifix falling on my head.

The tribesman bats it away with stalks of leaf.

Falls into a kettle and we cook it like a missionary.

There is nothing more dead than a black book full of resurrection.

Said stupid Protestants stinking up the living room with lies, lies, lies.

I hope to see them leave.

Taking them with their skin.

Their smelling of bactine.

Make trailer parks.

Stinking Christians.

I hate them, I really do.

No comments: