Saturday 8 March 2008

To Jamelia from Jamelia

We were all there,
laughing upon his verses,
laughing upon her verses,
commenting on the offset
of the laughters, then
smelling our own asses,
confusing them with any
old pits, like pikes.jpg
in the aethernetic chamber
of the spam in the shower
and the celestine sophistry;
o the ebb and flow of this
noble centaur's tail. That's
your mom when she lived
in South America, charged
a lot 4 rides and she on 1
ride found you like cuffing
prods in a lunch meat array,
down by the core core core.

No comments: