still he saws at the legs of his Steinway old habits only die hard so he tickles the ivory cigarette hanging from his lips

loading the chamber to kill that which he fears most one round will suffice

it misses the way we use to sit and breathe together inhaling and exhaling

clear skies are the feathers with which the lesser gods tickle their twats and dicks sunshine is the gleam of a puckered asshole

watching horror films on vhs with gramma saturday nights

we are all worth more than the bread crumbs they throw u… minimum wages

i would be excited to hold it tickle its little belly and watch it laugh if it cried i would search enthusiastically

some nights I talk to them because i have no pets and i am alone i make promises “tomorrow we will go for a walk”

you only get so many nights like t… where the streetlights become tiny… she picks you up at your place for… and introduces you to Joy Divisio… blacklight and 80's retro music

going out for Golden Gloves when i was a teenager i trained as hard as anyone paid close attention to the scienc… my coach

if the fairy spreads her thighs for the goblins finger the happy ending never comes even if she does

i am the one most concerned with popularity found my way into castles to meet with kings and queens crashed parties with celebrities

and death is spreading through the… violets are blue and the zombie in the mirror is me when the bones start

all of my weary and all of my woe is made into perfect sense a common thread in my favorite son… familiar tones of sadness the beauty of malaise