years ago tizzop knocked at our door nighttime the remains of day splattered across the floor
when you think of tizzop:
think of your last déjà vu and what you felt think of early immigration: the german belt
tizzop: a combination of people lovin/people hatin' pride of a nation yet last letter standing in a poem without ending
long time ago tizzop knocked at our door nighttime the remains of day splattered across the floor
tizzop hungry; he asked for food while slowly taking his hat off to my mom; she delighted since she saw into the eyes of a warrior acting quite politely
then tizzop fainted and fell on the floor obviously he was starving mom fried some chicken
later at the table tizzop gobbled bonez'n'skin; the more i looked at tizzop's traits the way he moved his cheeks and chewed his food i sensed that we were kin
nobody talked: familiar silence filled the room
the more i looked at tizzop's bossy smile and his black teeth i was reminded of something
like the déjà vu of a déjà vu
strong connection between tizzop and me: he stayed at our place and soon became
my brother little by little mom turned him into her lover
wanted to **** him but didn't **** it this poem gotz to be hidden