P.S. This poem really does contain profanity
The oven-fried creatures are now entering the erogenous zone.
God bless the asshole, where life is a big, fat fuck,
rubbing alcohol, television, needles,
ghosts are the only ones to make it out alive,
bulrush for the door,
clothes worn well,
a worse mouth for stranger questions.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
Posts
No comments:
Post a Comment