i am slipshod Monty
wonking the gossamer lust of ill fortunes
strewn to all winds
a lisp of beacon
churning in the midriff of your titan virus
crumbs of ore
bejewel the wet femur
of our last corpse.
your merry Shelly
is morose
than less
god.
bending runes; you nip tink and **** from odd drums
summoning the haven of your wrong
repenting in the
pent up
down.
just 'cause.
Oct 27, 2012
Oct 27, 2012 at 12:31 PM UTC
i am slipshod Monty
wonking the gossamer lust of ill fortunes
strewn to all winds
a lisp of beacon
churning in the midriff of your titan virus
crumbs of ore
bejewel the wet femur
of our last corpse.
your merry Shelly
is morose
than less
god.
bending runes; you nip tink and **** from odd drums
summoning the haven of your wrong
repenting in the
pent up
down.
just 'cause.
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