Wednesday, December 1

Give over a dime or nine

Look look it’s that bird.
Which?
The one that you gave to your mum
Quick grab it
Eat it
Love it
Feed it
It isn’t even real clown libre
Get in the pool and swim it off I say
Talk to the man about changing those crazy trunks
Maybe something more suitable like a three, four, five, nine piece.
Get out of my line I’m trying to shoot these goddamn angels
We can no longer recognise the beauty of a baby
But we see the beauty of a bridge and the beauty of a flag
Out with it
Give me the truth
I want to hear those words that not even you knew you had
Smoke a pipe and relax first
Then it will come
The true inner sub consciousness
That we like to call psychosis
We are all a bunch of sanities bunched, squashed and crammed
In an insane washer

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