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by
Eliot
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Poems
Dec 2017
Nobody gets off this plane alive. All the machinations, travesties, joys, disasters & miracles are of this small world. A man may choose to embrace or avoid them.
The simple truth gets my simplified answer, not knockin' up a ****
like you're in France poor or fancier than Nancy tore open on a bike
before losin' a lost leg lost in a fall over Niagara Falls on a fall hike
with tricky **** Nixon's 3rd grandson who looks like President Ike
Hi Gloria, I'm in the family way, time to get a job handling cat crap
'cause I'd never hang on demon-crone Steinem the ****-******* rap
while she's ******* to infanticidal chaos magick like a moaning ***
whose by-passed brain surgery became a slight brain surgerical trap
for the manipulation of her inflamed vaginal orifice wet fold to flap
to make us weak, sike-a-dikes too, like **** governor Milton Shapp
& team-mate John O. Lennon who picnicked on Everest's snow cap
God on high, may Gloria crap out on vacuumed tubes smeared pap,
liberated & forced down her gullet off Yoko Ono's anesthetized lap
from which drips Mexican wasp honey pancake syrup as maple sap
onto piles of beer-boozing-heart-land Kenuans snoozing in sakΓ© nap
whilst lips slip from my face into a sea lagoon from no Florida mapο»Ώ
Written by
π¦πππ ππ²πΏπΉπΆπ»ππΈπ
Simpang Bedok, Singapore
(Simpang Bedok, Singapore)
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