Buxom twenty-somethings fix street lamps.
But first, faces hover inches from pavement.
They took common sense…
Threw it in the street…
Kicked it into the sewer.
The men with brown pants seem to have their shit together.
Long bus rides from short trips.
Descriptive colors invoke images.
All invoked images are horrible.
It’s all bad news.
Shithole denizens make use of images unreal.
Boring assholes are outside keying cars and smoking stockroom boys.
Staying childish enough to stay out of heaven.
The adults are allowed heaven.
Most are licking wounds from red tridents.
Wild wolf become redundant.
They move men through sickly, wet snow.
Cowardly men butter biscuits and clean shit stains from underwear.
Everyday seems like King Kong.
Something big and stupid that only exists for purposes of melancholy and sorrow.
Halloween scarecrows bleach in July.
Smartass kids light them on fire at nightfall.
Mental patients want to be left alone to think about tits.
The black nurses still pinch thighs for obedience.
There is rarely a pitchfork sale.
Your enemy can always see you coming.
Unless you’re a pre-ejaculator.
That’s today’s lesson.
If life is cum, cum fast and often.
Disappoint Mistress Mother Nature.
Old lady walkers and cheap tooth fillings fill the crusher.
Half pounds of memories are sold for five solid bucks.
We can split a half pack of smokes.
We can run into a porn booth for half price.
In these days of dubious victories, the world is our cloister.
In this world, skeletons never smile.
Their jaws move up and down.
Outside a car is lit ablaze.
Internally, patrons of a coffee shop are moved by the bowel movement on the floor.
The denizens agree with each other and bash each others heads apart.
The pool of blood dries before it hits the door.
Outside two baby birds laugh at clean concrete.