BrokenNeckBoy
07-20-2001, 01:45 AM
There was the son of some door-to-door paperboy physician murderer,
passing the plague through the air when he pulled his pants down
letting them rest on frowning stationary lambs head doorsteps
which stooped down from starchy stupid wavelength heaven
and fit his fingers for abstinence rings
and stared him coldly in the eye for ten seconds
waiting until blistered foreskin hands knelt down underneath the window cracked open
with lit cigarettes between slipping fingers
smoking and cascading with reggae heartbeats and hamfists
big nasty bastards ambling into solemn tic-tac-toe funerals
drinking stinking alcoholic orange juice,
washing down slightly poisoned haiku Vitamin C pills,
choking him in remorseful freedom
seizure hands dropping fat-heeled skateboard children carved from rotten oak stairs
leading to juvenile torture attics filled with shadowed Andy Griffith television screens
sparking and pretending not to nibble on seldom changing nostalgia knots of antique virtue.
passing the plague through the air when he pulled his pants down
letting them rest on frowning stationary lambs head doorsteps
which stooped down from starchy stupid wavelength heaven
and fit his fingers for abstinence rings
and stared him coldly in the eye for ten seconds
waiting until blistered foreskin hands knelt down underneath the window cracked open
with lit cigarettes between slipping fingers
smoking and cascading with reggae heartbeats and hamfists
big nasty bastards ambling into solemn tic-tac-toe funerals
drinking stinking alcoholic orange juice,
washing down slightly poisoned haiku Vitamin C pills,
choking him in remorseful freedom
seizure hands dropping fat-heeled skateboard children carved from rotten oak stairs
leading to juvenile torture attics filled with shadowed Andy Griffith television screens
sparking and pretending not to nibble on seldom changing nostalgia knots of antique virtue.