ur ass

ur ass

Friday, February 27, 2015

in my eyes, stop a bad spaceship pornographically
cruel beyond roughly melodramatic, the endless spine
you’d think of angelic resistance, and being like bats
assaulted, twisted ghosts doing a man’s delusional thinking
taken friendly, the rapped flour would be this hot aspect of
his fungal brownie, stumbling across Lazarus disgustingly
slamming the CGI of fire, the contrasts trace aneurysms as
one big ol’ wizard’s material world of depressive quantum mechanics
retro- switching meaningless humanoids and grave
characterized as extant penis vibe, as well as tears like feces
in my eyes, which grab the universe’s alien junk, vagina Faust
indulges in wonderful networks of anti- girl hell, well, yes
and no, non-arterial, afraid of identical bruises, symmetrical
vivisection cranking the goblin arteries of goat antlers noodling

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