Wednesday, 6 May 2015

Shucks, I'm Down on My Luck

I'll flick 'em. I'll flick 'em. Line it up and pick them, take a stick and hit them. Because I'm gunna be free.

The bones that ache will bake white beneath the sun. Sunken gums and rotten teeth, forced to live on the streets and seek eats where I seek eats.

My great escape was melting. Rapaciously smelting the fumes, pressing ooze and making spume pour from the slits. I'll leave you here whilst my brain goes and takes a shit.

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