pick up line

any port in the storm

any snort in a porn

any hope is all worn

every loss is still warm

the ratatatat of a snare drum

the crackle of burning tobacco

no matter how intricately the mirrors are set up

are you listening?

no matter how intricate the mirrors are set up never look the little creature fisting you in the eye

under no condition is this safe

look at me, look here now

don’t do it

they take your soul and another creature is born, it is how they breed, lizard people and illuminati sleeper agents supply cocaine and horse tranquilizers to keep the party going

pass the dutchie on the left hand side

right, not right but right as in agreement or statement of fact, right

castanets caliente caiete, madre de dios, caiete, una paquita cabron

just shut the fuck up for three seconds and breathe

offensive stereotypes and perpetuated myths do no good for anyone, mister

cocaine like clown make up, strutting like a young peacock, feathers flared and drawing every eye

supermodel walk to the corner store

fierce and made for a spectacular crash

heroin chic, marshmallow peep, pimp style creep, them pockets look deep

damn girl did you just fall from heaven cause you look like the devil and i have an invoice handy

that will be seventy eight cents for the soul and two air fresheners that smell like

abstract art and overflowing trash bins, a tire fire and chocolate kisses, that last taste of amniotic fluid before the smack on the back

cloves and ginger, goth night for an upset tummy

shelf life of a fruitcake, indiscriminant to the discerning palate

it all started with any port in a storm and wishing it were any snort in a porn

took life from that and sprouted wings with thorns instead of feathers, incapable of flight but deadly and complex

a scorpion eagle hybrid with the nose of a bloodhound and the bark of whooping crane

she is like a theramin, whimsical and off putting, at the same time a gentle melody and eerie, pensive and angry

a beautifully wrapped package of angry hornets, barbed stingers and multifaceted eyes

drawn along an invisible trail of pheromones and sad trombones, dislocated fingers and the outstretched arms of

nothing

keep it moving people, nothing to be here, you have all seen the bottom act like adults

diapers and dementia, diphtheria and diabolical drawstrings held taut and the bolts are aimed at your nether regions, your naughty bits

can you speak in tongues, read Aramaic, and feed us both a healthy dose of arsenic

hemlock, wormwood and a splash of sirin to keep the mercury taste from shining through

naughty little minx, vixen, dream come true and nightmare given shape

always just out of grasp, incorpreal as mist and as real as those two chips implanted in the back of your brain stem, wired to blow if you make

any

sudden

moves

hold still, hold your breath, let the lasers bath you, let the razors tame you, let the tasers braise you

farewell done with criss cross applesauce grill marks on your succulent hide

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