Twit

A long white hall with a small slug at the end, walk to it, pick it
up, eat it. Drink the vodka. Kentucky blue grassvon your feet and the
smell of cotton candy while you're chewing on blotter. She says it's
ready so you have to go. It is some kind of secret birthday bash. I've
heard greensleeves twenty six times today. Lying-Smiling all day like
I've perfected it, like it's ducking breathing. Two shots about some
fake ass motherfuxker wither and die in your deisel jeans and euro
shoes George michael ass morherfucker. I don't even taste anymore. I
just smell. I almost don't need sight at this point. Hyper-human
evolution. Sticking your nose in the air is supposed to rid you of
that sense they say. Conceptions like the animals that still sniff
around on the ground to learn aboutvthe world. My nose is stuck so far
up in the motherfuxkin air it's in another galaxy. and she just
parties. No panties. And chubby is a form of gene still sought after
by many cultures and your lips are all ducked taped. Only 23 nails fit
In his right eye but somehow I manages to fit 26 in his left eye.
Scream like silver on fire. Chlorephyl on open wounds. My chest opened
up and new York city's got dibs on whatever shit they can pull outta
me. and trust me, I'm full of shit. Laid out on the black and white
tile in the long white hallway looking upvat flourecent lights picking
little crawling pieces of rice out from the insides of my knee. I
can't spit enough ok her face. I can't call out cause I need the
money. All the trees in the world could not produce enough paper for
the love letter I wish I could write you. His skin is an airfilter.
His socks are mops. He's planted in soil rich in embalming fluid. she
cut off a chunk of me sent it in to orbit, and I have to pay for the
airspace. Cold stones ant tadpoles filth crunching liberation. Blood
runs like honey on blonde hair.

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