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precision metal and beveled fonts
spin the knurl and left lamont
hanging by a thin thread
the things he thought were said
stuck in his head
text couldn't be read
he's just sick about it

the 64th of november
is easily divided
by eight and my did
he scream and slide
his hand along the red
pipe dreams of being dead

five colors hanging
on the screen banging
a regimented tune
the purple buffoon
flips an eight ball
to see who to call

trill and spun flourish
not lacking in courage
to knock on your door
but there's more
leave you sore
but laughing


This page contains a single entry from the blog posted on December 21, 2008 12:03 AM.

The previous post in this blog was oh my kase.

The next post in this blog is battles gone down.

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