Heinous, immoral, sinful swine!
To what I am demanded to oblige,
This unravelled given flesh, falsely acclaimed.


By who, are we to bestow such honorarium upon specimens?
We, this, it... YES it! For no other alias be deft to pure ****!


If it be for me, I'd not be so haste to shift to utter, cosmic vile!
And alas tis that which I am, and as all my fellow ethological, fleshy hominids.
I do not care for it.
And seek the purity of it, but such use may be eternally latent.
God!

A street sense awakens
the purple rage.
Ah. Bougainvilleas,
the winter has set in.

There was no encounter.
No bloodshed.
Only bloodstones were displayed
for sale.

A domestic brawl
between the religious signs.
Each sun-flower should
have a separate name.

The pomelos will not
come this season.
There was war between
the brothers.