the world's at their feet, they can claim postcards
from anywhere - yet they too are at the world's
something or other - the world shat them out
and they described it politely
as worth the travel... or the world regurgitated
them out and made them say
Rome was infinite  in the aristocratic practice
of an **** of anorexics -
the best rhetoric i ever heard
was from a bulimic aristocrat
from Pompeii... hot lava streaks of
half-digested fledglings
of a chiselled rock-face of partially
climbed for a reward of a cupcake...
it took porridge to the new extremes!
seriously - the un-celebrated
masculine with masculine enticed
us into accepting **** without lactose
sugars and a cougar **** of fancy -
trans ****** **** because the masculine
form was asked to be damnable
in homosexual practice -
at least homosexuals practised the celebration
of whole male embodiment, the male
form was celebrated - it isn't now, to be
honest - the male beauty is debased,
once by feminism secondly by trans-gender
politics - of "free speech",
free speech is gone... it went down the sewers
with a ship of pirating rats profiteering from
cowardice and the capitalistic motto:
every tail waggling for the dodo coccyx
to be minded! hushed, the rats jumped ship,
the last idiot, the captain remained,
started snorkelling up pride in the one
constellation he wished to avoid, not east
nor west... but the deepest south of a sinking
ship... the depths gave him reprimand for
honour - an assurance in the form of
costa concordia's schettino breaking
the lineage of accepted convent for the upkeep.