Crosshatched tower of black ropes
Spiral towards poofy marshmallow clouds
A tempation for each passing youth
To gather around in crowds
All together the creatures, they climb
Grasping rope and some stranger's limb
Bodies fall to the earth like potato sacks
No limits in order to win...

There was an old man on my street,
Who resembled a pig made for meat;
He cussed and he drank
He fought and he stank,
'till a car squished him into concrete!

The unworded truth lay twisted,
Where teething creatures stir.
Caught in the cobs of forgotten crevasse,
The doomed but dormant menace.

Thy beast shall be relieved of such burden,
Set free to light all darkness in flame
To extinguish all, til no brightness remains.

Putrid air from foul corpses, permeate the living.
Forsaking unfit, weak forces; creating a race of productive courses.

Addiction makes me
a sick clown watching
a killer circus
filled with empty seats
and dead animals.

This wickedly twisted world
spins me around
like a broken carnival ride
that goes faster and faster.
While chuckling *******
wear plaster smiles
I sit sick and vomiting
spewing lines of black ink
half-truths obscured
by metaphors and similes.

The nightmare men
stare and grin at me
military twin to the police
wearing violence menacingly
strangling the landscape
with rubble, mace, mud,
glass, bullets, and blood.

I would wear goggles
to protect me from
their blood soaked insanity
but I prefer to look
with crystal clear
chlorine eyes
that burn
the very core of me.

Blurred and twisted my world is shifted it's not the same

I'm off my flip, I feel cold like a coffins frame

my spaces change..and so do the faces names

All is engraved..still the same.. are features that have haunted ever since I was a minor...

What does he speak of is it really that minor?

I indoor spit quick metaphors heavy-ore then a cave of iron ore..pre-historically historical am a tech-dinosaur..

am kind of a connoisseur...I think of often more...and mostly for specifics..open doors to find the leak of crickets.

speak of what we eat I call it cheese and bisects...you must be getting jumpy I can hear the ribbit's

Mash up little snippets simple digits...words and phrases I'm a chemist chemically inclined, Mentally declined.

I think she needs space so I say read between the lines. Squeeze a lemon from a lie call it sit-trust..to double check please elect a witness.

Now get shocked like a hit stick...flipped with my mines thoughts that are clouds which pass then precipitate...rain drops fall down to participate in the puddle...

Instant is a rebuttal...quicker then space vacuums..or a blast from a space shuttle...hmm it's all subtle..suddenly coming by as if it were to apply to my simple human vibe.

Who is you...who am I? That is thee outstanding surprise, I speak to leap with a pride that wouldn't normally subside in my daily life...rarely I speak I just leak what I have inside.

If this catches your interest great..if not...well better luck next time...here take a glove..try to catch my next line_________

Donald, what is wrong with you?
You’re really acting strange.
It’s like your mind has measles
Or bubonic plague or mange.
Something sick is going on
Down deep inside your mind.
It seems to make you stupid
As well as deaf to facts and blind.

Maybe sometime decades back
You might have made some sense
But we have watched a long time now
And it hasn’t happened since.
You don’t seem to be able to
Tell the facts from the lies.
You are getting stranger daily
We can see it in your eyes.

You always were a reprobate
A fact you couldn’t really hide.
Your responses were so obvious
We saw the truth you kept inside.
You looked down on women,
Looked at them as just toys.
You carefully referred to gays
As naughty twisted boys.

You never had much use for blacks
Except for menial kinds of labor.
You certainly didn’t want any of them
To end up as your neighbor.
And now you want control of
The Presidential nuclear codes.
Do you want to sell them off
To buy stuff to put up your nose?

No, Donald, you are sick as hell
And we’ll be glad when you are gone.
The rest of us have had enough
And think you should move on.
Maybe you can get a job
Playing high stakes liar’s poker.
That might fit a guy like you:
A dangerous and unfunny joker.