You awakened in me
Something I never expected
A desire to fix all of the
Problems of this world
No matter how drastic
The measure may be
A verified *****
A true blood fox
A life outside
A life with the man
Everyone wanted to be
Or to ****
But I wouldn't change
At first I hated being
Different I hated seeing
Lens so different
From my kind
But over time
I grew to love
The double vision
Only with you
Because of you
Life altered by a
Won't hold us back
Is now in
Our favor again
Alan-a-Dale's song's seem to point
Me in that direction
The rooster's notes all ring true
Prince John with his thumb
Stuck in his mouth
Sent him back to
Work the Royal Rock Pile
Upon his return from
Reconcuering the Holy Land of Jerusalem
From Ayyubid Sultan Saladin
King Richard will set us
All straight again
Me with my Robin Hood
"In a meeting held on February 12, 1938, Disney commented I see swell possibilities in 'Reynard', but is it smart to make it? We have such a terrific kid audience ... parents and kids together. That's the trouble – too sophisticated. We'll take a nosedive doing it with animals."
“i’m done with furries”
i can’t dream your dreams,
but you’ve told me about them.
you wear an owl mask
shaped by fists and transgression;
a laceration splits your side
from a skin split
to your rib splits.
Bill Clinton or Donkey Kong
(whoever populates your thoughts),
crack your bare skin
leaks out of your pores.
you dream of emulating art;
O hanging from a ceiling claw,
clicking heels against drywall
until leg muscles give up
and her diaphragm accordions close.
but who is your sculptor?
who is your artist?
alas, i am only
a paper mache bird.
i flinch when it rains,
i flinch when i move;
my paper skin
could cave in
from lip crack to *** crack.
but, i’ve only watched it once,
and i’ve been told
my eyes would adjust
on the second viewing.)
i dream of emulating art;
Marat in an ice bath,
tragedy and love and death
but who is my muse?
who won’t break my bones?
you don’t know my dreams either,
but we could dream together.
two reveries in polyphony
of an owl and bird *******,
is ******* weird;
a childhood seesaw
we’re trying to
find the perfect balance
to with our weight.
we dream different things;
**** fantasies and intimate kissing,
but that doesn’t matter.
at this point in two years,
we can see through each other.
i can’t make art without you.
you aren’t done with furries.
a reference to a Brautigan
You’re no feline, dear, trust me
Your reactions are slow like your atrophied body
You’re no kitty cat, love, you see
I wouldn’t want to pet you if you met me in the street
Mr Husky your pecs don’t impress me
Replaced with saggy ****, no time for self-preservation
Only the perseveration of the image in text
In the age of technology
The geek inherits the earth
In this world where weirdoes aren’t so
And crazy cat ladies are beacons of sanity
I’m always the type to be pushed into fringes
****** through the vortex of the obscure
Fandoms, fantasies and ideas of the crazy
You call yourself a fox? You show no cunning
Only a disdain for the “mundane”, contrived pedantry and cynicism
My otter friend, can you even swim?
And I never knew owls were supposed to have *******
But here I am, I can’t complain
Partaking in the art of the insane
There’s no harm in pretending, it’s only a game
Reality is ******* boring, and life’s a *****
So don those ears and pretend you’re thin!
You know you’re no **** wolf-man
I can see your ribs lad! I swear,
Human hippopotamus are preposterous
And what sort of a monkey are you??
But what of it, let’s just throw a **** party!
About the wacky sub cultures that have become mainstream knoweledge thanks to the web.
What came first, the fetishist or the web?
Hidden in plain view in the disconnected age
Or just invented by the collective minds of cyberspace?
Eccentrics with their last ditch attempt
Of being one of the widely accepted
Rule 34, the most enforced law
If it exists there is **** of it!
Trawling through the deviantart pages
A wild goose chase, finding the hidden artistic gem
Instead as the pages reach the end, I get lost in the crevices
Of the perverted human mind
Anthropomorphic wolves in the **** with muscles rippling
An artist self portait wearing a frilly terry *****
Cherished tv characters destroying their innocence
Tickled feet. Gigantic balloon men. Feline chicks with *****.
I feel nothing but frustration
Why is this **** often the most well drawn!?
I'm in that weird part of the internet
Like a carcrash you can't look away, it's fascinating
The victims brains all over the road
If you can crawl under the blockades, you get a show
Always the most skilled painters find themselves crushed and trapped
Their pervy hands craft detailed, brilliant master pieces
Of their own image as a ***** snake, being ravaged by rackoons and meerkats??
Just being a bit silly with this one!
— The End —