genuine anger, that implodes?
kinda makes
        you sleepy.
been listening to too much
     lindsay ellis: drinking...
in vino veritas verbatim...
     ghost writers?!
you have to be kidding me...
      kovalski!
- yes sir!
inquire about
the bookovski
          method!
- the hyphen is
counter to the concept
of a prose narrative
in paragraph form,
translated into poetry:
fwee! fwee!
     jittering away,
like a sparrow might!

**** me, does anger
make you sleepy...
if anger implodes...
     that's like...

   the...                  ultimate
         sleeping pill;

it's a friday? some *****
     taking
place in central london?
thank god i'm not thinking
about picking up and marrying
the scrap-heap of counter incels.

all i seriously wanted
was to become a bus driver,
the route 5...
            
          ****... anger is so exhausting
when it implodes and
does, but "doesn't" have
an outlet...
               you don't teach kids
martial arts by kicking
one of them in the *****...

        and watch them curl up
like an oyster exposed to electricity
asking, or rather, demanding:
is there a kojak, a liver, a brain,
and an altogether in there?!

   like an echo into a cave...
imploding anger:
  makes you sleepy...
     like the adversary of adrenaline...
or the emperor's throne room scene
music...

oh look...
                           yet another yawn
attempting to lodge itself
into the gob of a chimpanzee -
caught on camera,
        "supposedly" laughing;

then again...

  it would refer to the:

bankrupt broadcasting corporation,
given: sheeee shaville;
       well... a sort of...        oops?!

don't worry, you have *******,
it's like the new niqab...
    
   seems a bit... pointless to *******...
if you've been circumcised.