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Oct 2016
Satan, in this drama,
the **** in my underwear
as I've been unable to
wash my clothes.

God, in this comedy,
angels in the form of us
homeless youth, blossoming
from the ashes of an
Empire.

My mother, in this Sci fi,
a spaceship on the Mesa of
Arizona, to save Planet
Earth from your grimy hands.

This vending machine parking lot
near-death experience calling out
for coffee stained teeth and toothpaste-
covered pockets. Anyone in camo
pants may agree that surrender
is no option in the darkness.

Counter-intel these dispelled image
rats anticipating annihilating smells
of an **** gone wrong-- ecstasy para-
mounting on my wardrobe, *******
**** of a woman in flux, counting
on one hand the fists you put
inside AMERICA THE BEAUTIFUL.

To Pharoah, Ceasar, us peasants belong
in trashcan garbage pail toilet ****,
maybe that's ok because the rich
IN SPIRIT give birth to the KINGDOM,
rain slowly washing away
Babylon and my cares for the things
of this world:
I only want you.
Austin Boston
Written by
Austin Boston  Vegas
(Vegas)   
846
   Mara W Kayh, Anna and ---
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