I was doing a little jig down the sidewalk
When all of a sudden
This red, bulbous, obstruction pounced into my field of view
I said, "Whoa, hotshot, cool down"

He/she/it did not reply
"I'm talking to you kiddo
Can you please communicate with me?"
It just sat there staring at me. Why?

You see, hydrants can be little stinkers sometimes
They'll talk your earlobe off one time
Other times they act like a sack of taters
They're just little drama queens

"Meow meow" said the hydrant
I take a look over yonder, than ask the **** target,
"Are you talking to me sir?"
"Meow," it said "I'm not sure I like your tone"

"You must be some sort of mind type hacker dealio
Cracking into my cerebellum, what are you doing in there?
Seriously man! Come on!
You must be going through emotional trauma. PTSD I don't know."

"Calm down buco, let's talk about this
Over a bucket of churned goat milk, I love that stuff.
How's Shirley? I hear she took up crocheting
I respect that"

"Grr, graa, paa?
Me oh my, this reminds me of pick up sticks all over again
Hey look at this man,
If you walk without rhythm, than you won't attract the worm."

I find myself at the laundromat
Working out my thighs and lats
I put 2 quarters in the slot
It makes a sound like a robot

I open the door and I am posed
With a question asking, where are my clothes?
I don't wanna look stupid so I improvise
So I start chatting it up with a couple of guys

I say
Laundry for hire, laundry for hire
I'm looking for just the right buyer
Come on in, into my dryer
Laundry for hire, laundry for hire

One fine chap quickly agrees
Though I see him shaking at the knees
I ask him kindly to take out his keys
Don't worry kiddo this will be easy

He squeezes in, packed so tightly
I close the door feeling high and mighty
The machine rolls round and round
The door opens, and he falls to the ground

I feast on his entrails, meaty and sweet
Taking in the smell of his feet
I end my meal and am satisfied
Though I do wish he was deep fried

I feel a hunger still raging on
I still wish for it to be gone

So I say,
Laundry for hire, Laundry for hire
I'm looking for just the right buyer
Come on in into my dryer
Laundry for hire laundry for hire

Today I decided to go to my crib.
I then invited my homies to bid
that Lamar is goin to bring his kid.
So while I'll be chillin here popin some lids,
I noticed none of my homies have come to my crib,
not even Lamar and his kid.

So I tried actin all cool,
until I saw a small red pool.
I soon found myself a fool
by following that pool.

I found two brothers who were smothered in red.
One was dead,
and conceived a decapitated head.
It was Lamar who was stained red.

The otha brotha seemed to be a kid.
I said, "Why would you do somethin like this."
He said, "you will never find the otha bodies I hid."
I soon found my homies did make it to my crib,
Every single one of them were hung by the head.
They were all there except for Lamar's kid.

Lieing on my body is my soft little feline
So cute and sweet like a flower of clementine
I pet Young Gunther softly as he stares into my eyes
I however was yet to meet my despise

The claws came out all sharp and about
Blood everywhere as I fought him throughout
Feeling such pain I fought back the best I could
His speed however was misunderstood

Bleeding out I grabbed the phone
In mid-brawl I began to crawl
Dialing 911 to save my life
At this point even a knife would not suffice

Nearly dead the ambulance arrived
Deprived and hurt I continued to cry
"Why Gunther, why?"

I was put on to a stretcher and taken away
Gunther running he escaped in some way
In the ER with little blood left
No hope in my mind remains about to be swept
Into a can and in a number of minutes
My fatality occurred
Words were slurred
And I died slowly painfully and without any last words
But "Oh Young Gunther, you little ****."

There once was a boy who lived in Spocompton
His biggest fear was a drive-by to stop him
Whitest kid around totally fearless in this scary town
He shouted "Hey fatso!" But boy he did not know what was going to go down

One day he left the house to buy a small mouse
So called "Fatso" was out and about with his homies no doubt
Driving down the ride so happily and calm
But a mile down the road came Fatso with his hoes
The boy stepped out of his car onto the sidewalk standing afar
Fatso and the crew drive by quite slowly and out come the guns shooting bullets not low-key

The boy cries loudly as blood splurges from his body
Just a young guy about to die he began to ask "Why, Fatso, why?"
Bullet holes in his body tightly spread in his shotty
The boy in the ground now begging for mercy
Praying to God that he might stop hurting me

Dead and gone, Fatso still angry with a name like his
He didn't like to do it but he needed to complete his biz
niss
Fatso drove away, the boy died quickly,
A sad day to insult, as Fatso yelled "Don't **** with me."

Mr. Shmirnoff could not fall asleep
For his mind was focused on nothing but his jeep
He walked into his kitchen with the hope of a solution
As he saw the pills the ones next to the lotion

He took a few too many thirty minutes later
His mind was spinning in circles like a 3rd grader
He figured he might sharpen his pencils before he lie down to sleep
He approached his sharpener he took a quick leap confused as a purple sheep and what came next was gory and ignorant because he put his finger in the sharperener out of confusion and tore it he still was loopy

And his finger became droopy as he confused his finger for a pencil his mind was woozy and soon enough he was losing so much blood and then he finally understood what was happening the blood dropped low as it stopped on his toe oh what a mess he made he finally took his finger out and said "Oh hell no!" The room was soaked in red his nerves were dead and shortly after that he entered into his bed

Finally resting with a finger mostly destroyed his ring was broken just like his previous joy and he finally fell into a slumber as he dreamed of some lumber that he had see on Tumblr.

It was the best night of my life...
after having come back from playing my fife,
I was just working on my ligerature
When I saw a distant figure.

It approached me with a cold surrounding air,
Beckoning me to join in its heir.
I looked for its face,
And saw the blessing of Charles Mingus's grace.

He slowly walked up and whispered ever so quite,
"Have you ever made a sacrifice for the Mingus ever so pliant?"
I replied back:
"I have not, I apologize for the lack."

but unfortunately, it was not enough,
So he grabbed me by the collar, ever so ruff,
And told me tentatively,
"I am the only God, I deserve only your worship attentively."

So I bowed down to my controller,
My holy Excalibur,
The one who put me to sleep,
The one who has come to reap.

Time passes by,
But all ideas proceed to die.
It is impossible to think,
For it feels like your brain has a leak.

But I have a test!
I can't afford to do anything but the best!
No matter how much I try,
All I can do wait for an unlikely idea as I lie.

All of your attempts out of desperation,
Are met with no less than desecration.
And the longer you wait,
The more the oncoming test begins weigh.

There is always a solution though,
Wich you failed to know!
So you sit down at your chair,
And you begin to feel like you having more of a bearing.

You think of how you could change your thought process,
Using skills you most definetly have learned in class processes.
Then you realized,
You surely must not think standardized!

Life on the city streets wasn't easy
I lived off top ramen along with the spray cheesey
Panhandlin' all day long just to get on by
It was enough to make a grown pigeon cry

That's right I'm a pigeon, I'm a bird of flight
But I'm a **** *** bird, win evry fight
Don't you talk back or I'll skin you, fly you like a kite
hide up yo kids cause I be coming for em tonight

Bye the way I'm batman.
A dark ******* knight!

So stay inside cause I be breakin in
An innocent pigeon, you'll never see me comin
Stealing all yo stuff an scoopin up yo kids
I'll auction em off, take the highest bid

So don't call me a ****, cause I put a roof over their head
I pay them to work, by that I mean givin head
Later that night we'll all go to bed
Life be good when they **** my **** red

That's right I'm Chester the pigeon
You won't catch me in the kitchen
This poem be over so quit yo *******