"fuckers" poems - Hello Poetry

"fuckers" poems

Elephants are my favorite, but I hate giraffes I don't trust the horns on their heads Or how they coerced evolution into upgrading their necks, legs AND tongues -greedy little ******* Just eat from bushes or averaged sized trees like a normal ******* herbivore

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Jan 25, 2015

Jan 25, 2015 at 10:45 AM UTC

cecelia-francis

Elephants are my

Elephants are my favorite, but I hate giraffes I don't trust the horns on their heads Or how they coerced evolution into upgrading their necks, legs AND tongues -greedy little ******* Just eat from bushes or averaged sized trees like a normal ******* herbivore

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the magnolia was a bit of a ******* (as far as trees can be ******** and like very many other things— like japanese candy from the Fugi Mart in Greenwich (across from the McDonald’s and next to the music shop where I got my viola) and like pokemon cards and nintendo gaming systems and like Avril Lavigne’s “Sk8er Boi” on a pink CD in a Hello Kitty radio —that ******* of a magnolia was a distinctive taste of the years I spent growing up in my house at the end of Wyndover Lane. the ******* thing was almost perpetually in bloom. it barged into both spring and autumn (it didn’t give a **** about timing) those pink and white spongy petals padding the ground and at first you think it’s ******* beautiful sitting in the crook of the trunk where it split into two large separate branches tilting your chin back to catch a glimpse of blue between fat blossoms then the petals start rotting water-retentive little ******* and you can’t sweep ‘em away because they stick to the patio brown clumps slipping under rubber soles my dad lets loose a string of curses and the magnolia shakes with laughter I tried pressing the petals in a notebook once while I was in that naturalist phase it seems all little girls go through when you make fairy houses out of bark in the backyard and put flowers between the pages of books because it feels oh-so-much-more significant than picking a pretty thing and showing it to mom but the magnolia seeped through my spiral ring and when I opened it up a month later they were dry tan papery things not at all velveteen and rosy and there were garish pink bloodstains all through the ten pages on either side magnolias don’t preserve well except, honestly they do don’t they then of course there’s that childhood tragedy that everyone has when your dog got hit by some soccer mom’s suburban or your teddy bear was lost in an airport or maybe you just liked to cry because some things were just really worth the tears at the time but when I came home and found out they cut down my ******* ******* of a magnolia I bawled there wasn’t even a stump.

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May 2, 2013

May 2, 2013 at 4:48 PM UTC

the magnolia was a bit of a ******* (as far as trees can be ******** and like very many other things— like japanese candy from the Fugi Mart in Greenwich (across from the McDonald’s and next to the music shop where I got my viola) and like pokemon cards and nintendo gaming systems and like Avril Lavigne’s “Sk8er Boi” on a pink CD in a Hello Kitty radio —that ******* of a magnolia was a distinctive taste of the years I spent growing up in my house at the end of Wyndover Lane. the ******* thing was almost perpetually in bloom. it barged into both spring and autumn (it didn’t give a **** about timing) those pink and white spongy petals padding the ground and at first you think it’s ******* beautiful sitting in the crook of the trunk where it split into two large separate branches tilting your chin back to catch a glimpse of blue between fat blossoms then the petals start rotting water-retentive little ******* and you can’t sweep ‘em away because they stick to the patio brown clumps slipping under rubber soles my dad lets loose a string of curses and the magnolia shakes with laughter I tried pressing the petals in a notebook once while I was in that naturalist phase it seems all little girls go through when you make fairy houses out of bark in the backyard and put flowers between the pages of books because it feels oh-so-much-more significant than picking a pretty thing and showing it to mom but the magnolia seeped through my spiral ring and when I opened it up a month later they were dry tan papery things not at all velveteen and rosy and there were garish pink bloodstains all through the ten pages on either side magnolias don’t preserve well except, honestly they do don’t they then of course there’s that childhood tragedy that everyone has when your dog got hit by some soccer mom’s suburban or your teddy bear was lost in an airport or maybe you just liked to cry because some things were just really worth the tears at the time but when I came home and found out they cut down my ******* ******* of a magnolia I bawled there wasn’t even a stump.

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I don't do it for pleasure or Frustration more, to those ******* I try to ignore, ***** About me behind my back **** are you that bored. **** if you wanted to know the **** about me, the manure that Goes though your mouth smells Worse than your breath like you **** that comes from orifice you Call a mouth. **** off get a life, what ever makes You happy **** off and leave me Out your messed up life. That you Choose to **** around with someone Else's life, makes you a moaning ***** through out your life. ********* that should know better Than to use that thing called a mouth, **** off get a life or I swear you'll Hear worse than this come out my mouth.

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Apr 29, 2015

Apr 29, 2015 at 1:34 AM UTC

I don't do it for pleasure or Frustration more, to those ******* I try to ignore, ***** About me behind my back **** are you that bored. **** if you wanted to know the **** about me, the manure that Goes though your mouth smells Worse than your breath like you **** that comes from orifice you Call a mouth. **** off get a life, what ever makes You happy **** off and leave me Out your messed up life. That you Choose to **** around with someone Else's life, makes you a moaning ***** through out your life. ********* that should know better Than to use that thing called a mouth, **** off get a life or I swear you'll Hear worse than this come out my mouth.

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"Murica" "Murica" "Murica" chants of patriotism ethnocentrism nationalist sentiments lacquered in blue red white spangled with stars and candy striped "enemies both foreign and domestic" the roar of jet engines accompanied by crackling sparklers summer sunlight glamorous fireworks red meat burning over charcoal because the chef is being kissed "life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness" the roar of jet engines accompanied by dying children systematized **** internment camps the division along the 38th parallel because the evil's communism not McCarthyism no never "my government has a firm policy not to capitulate" not to terrorists not to the UN not to common sense not to popular opinion not to love in all it's forms but to corruption to the oil lobby to racism to *** to the Almighty dollar "we have reason to believe Iraq has weapons of mass destruction." No. No, you don't. Lying ******** You ******* You ruined everything. *****

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Sep 28, 2013

Sep 28, 2013 at 11:57 AM UTC

"Murica" "Murica" "Murica" chants of patriotism ethnocentrism nationalist sentiments lacquered in blue red white spangled with stars and candy striped "enemies both foreign and domestic" the roar of jet engines accompanied by crackling sparklers summer sunlight glamorous fireworks red meat burning over charcoal because the chef is being kissed "life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness" the roar of jet engines accompanied by dying children systematized **** internment camps the division along the 38th parallel because the evil's communism not McCarthyism no never "my government has a firm policy not to capitulate" not to terrorists not to the UN not to common sense not to popular opinion not to love in all it's forms but to corruption to the oil lobby to racism to *** to the Almighty dollar "we have reason to believe Iraq has weapons of mass destruction." No. No, you don't. Lying ******** You ******* You ruined everything. *****

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meanwhile, the Big Fat Yellow Bootay was getting right tired of waiting for the election to end. so, she set off down the highway going ninety five... "HOKEEEY POKEEEY!" she cried as she gunned the engine and threw herself in gear. "HOKEEEY POKEEEY! MOTHER ******* twice she cried, "HOKEEEY POKEEEY! MOTHER ******* this second time for extra good luck with the unfolding election. cool Fall breeze caressed her yellow metal, her big fat yellow bootay, a glorious day to be out on a drive! well, except where she had come from. beep beep beep beep always driving her beep beep beeping insane! it shore nuf was quiet out this way! she turned the shiny silver dial to turn on the radio. 'gonna have to get me some better speakers one day soon.' she thought to her big fat bus self. and what came out blasting? "That's Alright Mama," by who else? but the King! Elvis! Elvis has left the building and now, Elvis is ON THE BUS! she didn't quite know all of the words, but what the **** she sure could sing! As the big fat bus with the big fat bootay was driving along, singing joyfully, she glanced in the rear view mirrow and what did she see? why the ghost of Elvis himself was sitting right there right in the back of the bus. He starts strumming on his own guitar and singing, 'that's alright mama.." so she turned off the radio to listen to the ghost of the King, Elvis, himself, singing in the back of her big fat yellow bootay! she also watched him eating a lot of food in the back of the bus, her bus. his ghostly figure seemed to fluctuate between fat Elvis, and skinny Elvis, like a seesaw. by and by says he, (not the really fat one but not the really skinny one neither.) 'I need a pit stop.' says the King so the big fat bus, with the big fat yellow bootay, asks, asks she, 'you wanna stop at the next stop & go, or the next fizz & wizz, or my fav if you really need a constitutional, the stop & plop?' at this particular junction in time this ghostly King, was in the shape of Fat Elvis but very cooly outfitted, bellbottoms and rhine stones or were those all diamonds? note to self, the big fat bus squirreled away, check on that. are those real or not? more mulha is always good and this just might be mana from heaven in the form of Elvis the KING himself and maybe just one of those diamonds will fall out and get lost in me.' mighty strange happenings going on around here in this big fat bus with the big fat yellow bootay. ' the stop and plop little mama,' elvis replied with that ohhhh, soooooo, divine Elvis drawl and that darling little thing he did with his mouth, but was doing now as he was sitting there in the back of HER big fat bus with HER big fat yellow bootay! OH MY, it really is a HOKEY POKEY day! she sighed.....

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Sep 21, 2015

Sep 21, 2015 at 6:42 PM UTC

Big Fat Yellow Bootay waits for Election Results meets The King

meanwhile, the Big Fat Yellow Bootay was getting right tired of waiting for the election to end. so, she set off down the highway going ninety five... "HOKEEEY POKEEEY!" she cried as she gunned the engine and threw herself in gear. "HOKEEEY POKEEEY! MOTHER ******* twice she cried, "HOKEEEY POKEEEY! MOTHER ******* this second time for extra good luck with the unfolding election. cool Fall breeze caressed her yellow metal, her big fat yellow bootay, a glorious day to be out on a drive! well, except where she had come from. beep beep beep beep always driving her beep beep beeping insane! it shore nuf was quiet out this way! she turned the shiny silver dial to turn on the radio. 'gonna have to get me some better speakers one day soon.' she thought to her big fat bus self. and what came out blasting? "That's Alright Mama," by who else? but the King! Elvis! Elvis has left the building and now, Elvis is ON THE BUS! she didn't quite know all of the words, but what the **** she sure could sing! As the big fat bus with the big fat bootay was driving along, singing joyfully, she glanced in the rear view mirrow and what did she see? why the ghost of Elvis himself was sitting right there right in the back of the bus. He starts strumming on his own guitar and singing, 'that's alright mama.." so she turned off the radio to listen to the ghost of the King, Elvis, himself, singing in the back of her big fat yellow bootay! she also watched him eating a lot of food in the back of the bus, her bus. his ghostly figure seemed to fluctuate between fat Elvis, and skinny Elvis, like a seesaw. by and by says he, (not the really fat one but not the really skinny one neither.) 'I need a pit stop.' says the King so the big fat bus, with the big fat yellow bootay, asks, asks she, 'you wanna stop at the next stop & go, or the next fizz & wizz, or my fav if you really need a constitutional, the stop & plop?' at this particular junction in time this ghostly King, was in the shape of Fat Elvis but very cooly outfitted, bellbottoms and rhine stones or were those all diamonds? note to self, the big fat bus squirreled away, check on that. are those real or not? more mulha is always good and this just might be mana from heaven in the form of Elvis the KING himself and maybe just one of those diamonds will fall out and get lost in me.' mighty strange happenings going on around here in this big fat bus with the big fat yellow bootay. ' the stop and plop little mama,' elvis replied with that ohhhh, soooooo, divine Elvis drawl and that darling little thing he did with his mouth, but was doing now as he was sitting there in the back of HER big fat bus with HER big fat yellow bootay! OH MY, it really is a HOKEY POKEY day! she sighed.....

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Time to leave these ******* behind and delete them all from my mind. All had gone except for one. He was the worst for hanging on. He should have been just like the rest, who didn't like how I was dressed. Not to mention my high heeled shoes, well I don't care, It's them who lose. I'll need to find a brand new friend, not like these who all pretend. One who'd say "I don't care, do what you do. I'll put the kettle on, you fancy a brew?"

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Dec 18, 2017

Dec 18, 2017 at 5:32 PM UTC

'Fancy a Brew'.

Time to leave these ******* behind and delete them all from my mind. All had gone except for one. He was the worst for hanging on. He should have been just like the rest, who didn't like how I was dressed. Not to mention my high heeled shoes, well I don't care, It's them who lose. I'll need to find a brand new friend, not like these who all pretend. One who'd say "I don't care, do what you do. I'll put the kettle on, you fancy a brew?"

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Picture of girls face: 10 likes Picture of girls face featuring slightly/damn near totally visible ***** bumps: 5000 likes. What the **** people, its the SAME GIRL. Her **** are there in BOTH PICTURES yo. But due to the difference in likes, there's no doubt as to what the true focal point of the photographs are. Honestly, I'd much rather see a picture of a ladies face instead of one featuring the awesome breasticles. Because, while those **** do, without a doubt, totally rock, they should also be respected and like, viewed as something special for only that certain special person to see. CONTAIN YOUR **** YOUNG FEMALES FOR THE LOVE OF ******* GOD. You aren't attracting very respectable fellows by being so flaunty. People that are into you only for your tits/various other dank body parts you may or may not have, will most definitely end up hurting the beautiful blood pumping anomaly that lies behind said **** I mean it's your body, do what you want to do with it, but there are more then enough **** bouncing around the world right now to clog our minds with sexuality and distract us from accomplishing things as it is. WE DON'T NEED YOUR **** IN OUR FACE. not to mention, some day you're going to find a man or a woman that's going to love you for the super radical person that you are, and to them, your **** will just be like, the most awesome bonus, and by covering up just a bit more for all the numb skulled hard dicked mother ******* this world seems to have an endless supply of, you'll make that special person feel so so so so so so sooooo much more special when THEY get to see them. You know what i'm saying? We're in a society where your **** can take you further then your personality can and it's ******* ********

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Aug 11, 2014

Aug 11, 2014 at 5:24 PM UTC

Picture of girls face: 10 likes Picture of girls face featuring slightly/damn near totally visible ***** bumps: 5000 likes. What the **** people, its the SAME GIRL. Her **** are there in BOTH PICTURES yo. But due to the difference in likes, there's no doubt as to what the true focal point of the photographs are. Honestly, I'd much rather see a picture of a ladies face instead of one featuring the awesome breasticles. Because, while those **** do, without a doubt, totally rock, they should also be respected and like, viewed as something special for only that certain special person to see. CONTAIN YOUR **** YOUNG FEMALES FOR THE LOVE OF ******* GOD. You aren't attracting very respectable fellows by being so flaunty. People that are into you only for your tits/various other dank body parts you may or may not have, will most definitely end up hurting the beautiful blood pumping anomaly that lies behind said **** I mean it's your body, do what you want to do with it, but there are more then enough **** bouncing around the world right now to clog our minds with sexuality and distract us from accomplishing things as it is. WE DON'T NEED YOUR **** IN OUR FACE. not to mention, some day you're going to find a man or a woman that's going to love you for the super radical person that you are, and to them, your **** will just be like, the most awesome bonus, and by covering up just a bit more for all the numb skulled hard dicked mother ******* this world seems to have an endless supply of, you'll make that special person feel so so so so so so sooooo much more special when THEY get to see them. You know what i'm saying? We're in a society where your **** can take you further then your personality can and it's ******* ********

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Remember me? I'm the girl you sent away, Cause you were afraid for your REAL children's safety!? What happened to "You're our daughter now."? Did I mean anything? I mean **** And you! Remember me? I'm the girl you molested! After you said I could call you Daddy! BULL **** You knew EVERYTHING that happened to me as a kid, You shoulda known it would **** me up more than I already am! And you! Remember me? I'm the little girl you ***** While you were beating my mom and me! You were getting so high, you probably don't even remember me. But **** You remembered when your friends came over! So why not? And you! I'm the girl you gave birth to! But you never gave a **** about! You only cared whether you were sober or not, Or if your supply was doing ok... Do you know you have a son too? Oh yea, you do... But like everything else in your life, You scared him the **** away too! So now I have to pay? I've already given blood! What more do you ******* want!? Haven't I given enough??? I mean really, I'm a big girl now, And I'm still paying for your mistakes somehow... But you couldn't care less, Cause you got what you wanted... Maybe child support, Or just some ******* you started. I Just gotta know, Did it pay off for you? You lost so much, You almost lost me too. I almost KILLED MYSELF. BECAUSE OF YOU! And now I'm going crazy, I've lost **** too, For starters, my virginity... But that wasn't my choice. But it's all gone now... And I still don't have a voice. Second, Blood **** and lots of it. I've bled and shed for you, And you ******* love it. Third, my mind. ******* thanks a lot. It disappeared one day while you were smoking *** Do you know what you did to me? Can't you see? What the **** is wrong with you? CAN YOU ******* REMEMBER ME!?

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Jul 17, 2014

Jul 17, 2014 at 10:56 PM UTC

Remember Me? (2010)

Remember me? I'm the girl you sent away, Cause you were afraid for your REAL children's safety!? What happened to "You're our daughter now."? Did I mean anything? I mean **** And you! Remember me? I'm the girl you molested! After you said I could call you Daddy! BULL **** You knew EVERYTHING that happened to me as a kid, You shoulda known it would **** me up more than I already am! And you! Remember me? I'm the little girl you ***** While you were beating my mom and me! You were getting so high, you probably don't even remember me. But **** You remembered when your friends came over! So why not? And you! I'm the girl you gave birth to! But you never gave a **** about! You only cared whether you were sober or not, Or if your supply was doing ok... Do you know you have a son too? Oh yea, you do... But like everything else in your life, You scared him the **** away too! So now I have to pay? I've already given blood! What more do you ******* want!? Haven't I given enough??? I mean really, I'm a big girl now, And I'm still paying for your mistakes somehow... But you couldn't care less, Cause you got what you wanted... Maybe child support, Or just some ******* you started. I Just gotta know, Did it pay off for you? You lost so much, You almost lost me too. I almost KILLED MYSELF. BECAUSE OF YOU! And now I'm going crazy, I've lost **** too, For starters, my virginity... But that wasn't my choice. But it's all gone now... And I still don't have a voice. Second, Blood **** and lots of it. I've bled and shed for you, And you ******* love it. Third, my mind. ******* thanks a lot. It disappeared one day while you were smoking *** Do you know what you did to me? Can't you see? What the **** is wrong with you? CAN YOU ******* REMEMBER ME!?

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of course i ********** every night, otherwise i'd be wondering about the next Laika in space with some next soviet conspiracy Sputnik hovering while i chance abbreviate a change on hairstyling thinking: jeez, this is a little bit too afro frizzy for a brainstorm, maybe i better opt for Jamaican dreads? economics of shampoo usage, suddenly a large bank account. i do get the idea behind treating nouns like albinos... bleach the ******* hang them to dry in Polaroids... while commercial flights fly at a certain height, and the rich buggers fly high enough to jet-stream in the cirrus uncinus bracket... and they lie to children, they're talking about strange satellites... i can't see satellites, not without Galileo's excommunication apparatus, satellites, as far as i am concerned orbit the earth in a non-visible spectrum of the vacuum... hence their orbiting outside of the visible spectrum atmosphere of the earth, i would not be able to see a satellite for the love of Michaelangelo.

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May 4, 2016

May 4, 2016 at 8:25 PM UTC

removed.polaroid-scrabble

Jamaican dreads

of course i ********** every night, otherwise i'd be wondering about the next Laika in space with some next soviet conspiracy Sputnik hovering while i chance abbreviate a change on hairstyling thinking: jeez, this is a little bit too afro frizzy for a brainstorm, maybe i better opt for Jamaican dreads? economics of shampoo usage, suddenly a large bank account. i do get the idea behind treating nouns like albinos... bleach the ******* hang them to dry in Polaroids... while commercial flights fly at a certain height, and the rich buggers fly high enough to jet-stream in the cirrus uncinus bracket... and they lie to children, they're talking about strange satellites... i can't see satellites, not without Galileo's excommunication apparatus, satellites, as far as i am concerned orbit the earth in a non-visible spectrum of the vacuum... hence their orbiting outside of the visible spectrum atmosphere of the earth, i would not be able to see a satellite for the love of Michaelangelo.

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i write poems for fun. help me. i write poems for fun during lunch, while all the other kids live their adolescent lives. i write poems for fun on weekends, while others are experimenting with drugs and alcohol at awesome house parties. i write poems for fun alone, while everyone else explores each other's bodies. i write poems for fun. i cut myself for fun, while all you other ******* actually have fun. i write poems for fun. help me.

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Nov 13, 2012

Nov 13, 2012 at 5:57 PM UTC

i ******* hate poetry

i write poems for fun. help me. i write poems for fun during lunch, while all the other kids live their adolescent lives. i write poems for fun on weekends, while others are experimenting with drugs and alcohol at awesome house parties. i write poems for fun alone, while everyone else explores each other's bodies. i write poems for fun. i cut myself for fun, while all you other ******* actually have fun. i write poems for fun. help me.

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Wake me up I'm falling Stuttering and stalling With nowhere to run, and no place to hide A beast deep inside, Is rising Rise, like a tidal wave Rise, to every lie they gave Rise, for it is your time, To slay all these haters with power of rhyme Freedom of expression helps fight depression... Moment of silence On an empty stomach Then comes a rumble At the smell of apple pie crumble Moon is out of this world Annie is our favourite girl I hope no-one else sees this **And starts singing about my ***** ****** mind in a slaughter house Anti-Ducks about this life But with a Kiwi accent if I may Tis "Anti-Ducks about this life" We went outside, Still high Decided to munch and play games Forgot our phones outside Smash the boundaries, Tear down the walls Won't stop tearing Til' we seen Ben's ***** Break down barriers, Smack 'em down Walking past ducker-fuckers Delirious like a clown Smiling all the way With a crazy little laugh On this spectacular journey Into the past It's time to get to the end of this family rhyme We all pitched in with whatever we could find It's beautiful and grand, a real sight to see This Mafia family of mine It's our time our life Crazy running red lights Grand stand, stage band time to curtain call But it never ends, we fam! (Tight!) *Annie's the funniest girl Her hair blazes like sunset But she keeps talking about my ***** I mean seriously... She done yet???*

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Aug 20, 2016

Aug 20, 2016 at 2:57 AM UTC

Poetic Mafia Family Collab

Wake me up I'm falling Stuttering and stalling With nowhere to run, and no place to hide A beast deep inside, Is rising Rise, like a tidal wave Rise, to every lie they gave Rise, for it is your time, To slay all these haters with power of rhyme Freedom of expression helps fight depression... Moment of silence On an empty stomach Then comes a rumble At the smell of apple pie crumble Moon is out of this world Annie is our favourite girl I hope no-one else sees this **And starts singing about my ***** ****** mind in a slaughter house Anti-Ducks about this life But with a Kiwi accent if I may Tis "Anti-Ducks about this life" We went outside, Still high Decided to munch and play games Forgot our phones outside Smash the boundaries, Tear down the walls Won't stop tearing Til' we seen Ben's ***** Break down barriers, Smack 'em down Walking past ducker-fuckers Delirious like a clown Smiling all the way With a crazy little laugh On this spectacular journey Into the past It's time to get to the end of this family rhyme We all pitched in with whatever we could find It's beautiful and grand, a real sight to see This Mafia family of mine It's our time our life Crazy running red lights Grand stand, stage band time to curtain call But it never ends, we fam! (Tight!) *Annie's the funniest girl Her hair blazes like sunset But she keeps talking about my ***** I mean seriously... She done yet???*

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.simone biles (the gymnast)... miles davis (the trumpet guy)... must be black privilege; wasn't there a movie... starring woody harrelson and wesley snipes? you sure? i thought it was called: white men can't jump... sure as **** ****** can sing church gospel! how's that for privilege? if you're going to culturally box, and repeatedly punch below the belt... you're quiet likely going to get a reaction... i have an acne wart growing on my *** the size of a cauliflower, it's itchy my brain, it's differentiating between agitate and: lying back... i guess the excess of... look... you may have the excess melanin... i have lactose tolerance... we're even?! no? so how come some smurf, some European hobbit shackle your N.B.A. Goliath(s)?! explain that one to me... if these people were so cock-unsure... how they **** did they tame the Zulu Apache Goliath bodybuilders?! what the **** i already said, and it was proven... IQ... i don't like it... but i'm pretty sure that the whites **** more people in terrorist attacks than... camel-jockeys... it took 3 or over three... to perform the Bataclan Massacre... three... the third of the IQ that required a Breivik... 130 in France... dissociated among 3 attackers that gorged on testicles after the spree... fun, fun fun fun... like: you're trying to say that without irony... and how many in Norway? 77... i only look at the IQ of killers... so... what's the ratio? 77 / 1 130 / 3 = 43... like i said... low IQ... you really want your little racial insurrection? you'll have it, don't worry.. i'll just the narrative... must be black privy... if you can mash up a jazz compos., right? crackers read from a prepared script... you ******* just, "improvise"... rapping contra talking... **** come to think of it... ******* boys took it too far from your Oreos... like... too much drums... not enough wind, or strings... too much drumming... pulverizing the ears with drum & bass and what not... if i wasn't deaf prior, i'm deaf by now; ******* boy to Oreo woo-oo-oops boy; same **** different cover.

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Nov 2, 2018

Nov 2, 2018 at 9:42 PM UTC

removed.polaroid-scrabble

you want war, you'll have your war: came an Oreo for every *******

.simone biles (the gymnast)... miles davis (the trumpet guy)... must be black privilege; wasn't there a movie... starring woody harrelson and wesley snipes? you sure? i thought it was called: white men can't jump... sure as **** ****** can sing church gospel! how's that for privilege? if you're going to culturally box, and repeatedly punch below the belt... you're quiet likely going to get a reaction... i have an acne wart growing on my *** the size of a cauliflower, it's itchy my brain, it's differentiating between agitate and: lying back... i guess the excess of... look... you may have the excess melanin... i have lactose tolerance... we're even?! no? so how come some smurf, some European hobbit shackle your N.B.A. Goliath(s)?! explain that one to me... if these people were so cock-unsure... how they **** did they tame the Zulu Apache Goliath bodybuilders?! what the **** i already said, and it was proven... IQ... i don't like it... but i'm pretty sure that the whites **** more people in terrorist attacks than... camel-jockeys... it took 3 or over three... to perform the Bataclan Massacre... three... the third of the IQ that required a Breivik... 130 in France... dissociated among 3 attackers that gorged on testicles after the spree... fun, fun fun fun... like: you're trying to say that without irony... and how many in Norway? 77... i only look at the IQ of killers... so... what's the ratio? 77 / 1 130 / 3 = 43... like i said... low IQ... you really want your little racial insurrection? you'll have it, don't worry.. i'll just the narrative... must be black privy... if you can mash up a jazz compos., right? crackers read from a prepared script... you ******* just, "improvise"... rapping contra talking... **** come to think of it... ******* boys took it too far from your Oreos... like... too much drums... not enough wind, or strings... too much drumming... pulverizing the ears with drum & bass and what not... if i wasn't deaf prior, i'm deaf by now; ******* boy to Oreo woo-oo-oops boy; same **** different cover.

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grow a beard... buy a jazz double-bass... start stroking it... attempt to look pensive... and then write some Cockney comedy... and? **** Oxford. **** 'em good; can't be, ******* arsed... where's a ******* jazz double bass the kind i need to stand up to play?! where?! gone, "nowhere"... Achilles would sooner find a tortoise, you ******* half-whit bull bullock base catcher... yummy yummy... no ******* double whammy if there ain't a greasy dough nnnnnnnn in my mouth oozing a squid's mating call... from the Jules Verne estimate of how... big the ******* could become... oh please... **** is a conjunction word... akin to and... spew effect, regurgitation, founded upon... so... so... farting in a public place is less offensive than uttering a word of oath?! **** me... more **** less ***** images... i guess that's how you habitually attack Christian h'america... **** **** **** and impose a curb of a ***** show me the puppies kitchen ***** Kentucky style **** ******* wankers... dreaming up some **** in long lost Cockney rhyming slang for some: willkommen zu verirrt amstetten... .................... ................................... .............. ................ SCHMILE... boorish ******* gnomes dancing the leprechaun gamblers' dance... skivvy ************* sure... censor the words... but god forbid you censor showing all the ******* because... if you do? guess what... i might forget my farming impulse... of imagining a a cleavage to also imply a pork buttocks... funny... how a show of cleavage is synonymous with a show of pork buttocks... and then i begin thinking of milking... which throws a ***** **** out with the baby and the bathwater and... i'm shinging... what's that name of the place?! New Orleans! yeah... like some minstrel in that part of the world that part of the world that's a ******** what?! you spew on me... i spew on you... we can at least exchange... what we "love" about each other... but i implore! i implore! visit Warsaw! alone... no, not with other people... ah-loan - a-l-o-n-e.... i'll be your companion, when you peer at your shadow, and attempt, to pretend, to disappear.

0

Sep 11, 2018

Sep 11, 2018 at 8:48 PM UTC

removed.polaroid-scrabble

grow a beard... buy a jazz double-bass... start stroking it... attempt to look pensive... and then write some Cockney comedy... and? **** Oxford. **** 'em good; can't be, ******* arsed... where's a ******* jazz double bass the kind i need to stand up to play?! where?! gone, "nowhere"... Achilles would sooner find a tortoise, you ******* half-whit bull bullock base catcher... yummy yummy... no ******* double whammy if there ain't a greasy dough nnnnnnnn in my mouth oozing a squid's mating call... from the Jules Verne estimate of how... big the ******* could become... oh please... **** is a conjunction word... akin to and... spew effect, regurgitation, founded upon... so... so... farting in a public place is less offensive than uttering a word of oath?! **** me... more **** less ***** images... i guess that's how you habitually attack Christian h'america... **** **** **** and impose a curb of a ***** show me the puppies kitchen ***** Kentucky style **** ******* wankers... dreaming up some **** in long lost Cockney rhyming slang for some: willkommen zu verirrt amstetten... .................... ................................... .............. ................ SCHMILE... boorish ******* gnomes dancing the leprechaun gamblers' dance... skivvy ************* sure... censor the words... but god forbid you censor showing all the ******* because... if you do? guess what... i might forget my farming impulse... of imagining a a cleavage to also imply a pork buttocks... funny... how a show of cleavage is synonymous with a show of pork buttocks... and then i begin thinking of milking... which throws a ***** **** out with the baby and the bathwater and... i'm shinging... what's that name of the place?! New Orleans! yeah... like some minstrel in that part of the world that part of the world that's a ******** what?! you spew on me... i spew on you... we can at least exchange... what we "love" about each other... but i implore! i implore! visit Warsaw! alone... no, not with other people... ah-loan - a-l-o-n-e.... i'll be your companion, when you peer at your shadow, and attempt, to pretend, to disappear.

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oh yeah sure let's ask the traumatized kid if she knows anyone in that stage of psychological life the one where you start questioning whether or not you're happy and you often make rash decisions oh yeah. i do know someone who's right in that spot. can you describe it for the class? what the hell, sure. ...as i explain to everyone that my mother left because she was bored i watch the words "oh **** etch themselves onto my professor's face yep. i'm never getting called on again.

0

Apr 3, 2013

Apr 3, 2013 at 11:15 AM UTC

oh yeah sure let's ask the traumatized kid if she knows anyone in that stage of psychological life the one where you start questioning whether or not you're happy and you often make rash decisions oh yeah. i do know someone who's right in that spot. can you describe it for the class? what the hell, sure. ...as i explain to everyone that my mother left because she was bored i watch the words "oh **** etch themselves onto my professor's face yep. i'm never getting called on again.

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I have to try and keep my chin up and my head held high, among people that only want to rip me down. I'm nothing but a side show in their pathetic lives Please return to your seats the show is about to begin. And they all lean forward with their eyes on the prize Their deviance is no longer in disguise. Looks like friendship, but is only lies to keep themselves entertained for awhile. Pull at the dangling veins where my heart used to be, Please stop pulling, I'm begging you, set me free. For your own entertainment For your own joy I am not just some disposable toy. I've never been more hurt than the pain I feel now While you eat your own **** I've taken my head out of the clouds. You can **** with me all you want, but nothing is going to change. I've got rage like a lion, and I'm looking for prey. I won't even eat your body, I want to watch it decay. My anger isn't centered, it's in different directions **** all you mother ******* and your misconceptions. I'm tired of this, you can go eat **** Because when I find you, next thing is your dead body in a ditch. **** your rumors, **** your lies You're all enemies in disguise. Giving nothing, Wanting all I can't wait to watch you fall Into the darkness, just like me Oh, wont you keep me company? Your brown nose tells me yes So you like when I'm a mess? Sadistic mother ******* all of you are guilty. Stop looking at my hands when yours are ******* filthy. I'm done with these death games you play You can have each other, I'm not going to stay.

0

Oct 13, 2012

Oct 13, 2012 at 11:09 AM UTC

ultraviolentdaisy

Sadistic Death Games

I have to try and keep my chin up and my head held high, among people that only want to rip me down. I'm nothing but a side show in their pathetic lives Please return to your seats the show is about to begin. And they all lean forward with their eyes on the prize Their deviance is no longer in disguise. Looks like friendship, but is only lies to keep themselves entertained for awhile. Pull at the dangling veins where my heart used to be, Please stop pulling, I'm begging you, set me free. For your own entertainment For your own joy I am not just some disposable toy. I've never been more hurt than the pain I feel now While you eat your own **** I've taken my head out of the clouds. You can **** with me all you want, but nothing is going to change. I've got rage like a lion, and I'm looking for prey. I won't even eat your body, I want to watch it decay. My anger isn't centered, it's in different directions **** all you mother ******* and your misconceptions. I'm tired of this, you can go eat **** Because when I find you, next thing is your dead body in a ditch. **** your rumors, **** your lies You're all enemies in disguise. Giving nothing, Wanting all I can't wait to watch you fall Into the darkness, just like me Oh, wont you keep me company? Your brown nose tells me yes So you like when I'm a mess? Sadistic mother ******* all of you are guilty. Stop looking at my hands when yours are ******* filthy. I'm done with these death games you play You can have each other, I'm not going to stay.

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Jill. Fred phoned. He can't make tonight. He said he'd call again, as soon as poss. I said (on your behalf) OK, no sweat. He said to tell you he was fine, Only the crap, he said, you know, it sticks, The crap you have to fight. You're sometimes nothing but a walking ********* I was well acquainted with the pong myself, I told him, and I counselled calm. Don't let the ******* get you down, Take the lid off the kettle a couple of minutes, Go on the town, burn someone to death, Find another **** giver her some hammer, Live while you're young, until it palls, Kick the first blind man you meet in the ***** Anyway he'll call again. I'll be back in time for tea. Your loving mother.

0

3.2k

Jill. Fred phoned. He can't make tonight. He said he'd call again, as soon as poss. I said (on your behalf) OK, no sweat. He said to tell you he was fine, Only the crap, he said, you know, it sticks, The crap you have to fight. You're sometimes nothing but a walking ********* I was well acquainted with the pong myself, I told him, and I counselled calm. Don't let the ******* get you down, Take the lid off the kettle a couple of minutes, Go on the town, burn someone to death, Find another **** giver her some hammer, Live while you're young, until it palls, Kick the first blind man you meet in the ***** Anyway he'll call again. I'll be back in time for tea. Your loving mother.

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I am in such a **** mood, the mountains have no meaning. Big ******* rocks. **** you, dad. **** you, Fox News. **** you, Indiana. None of you ******* know what irony is. Google that **** Jesus Christ. There are yellow streams-- that's poetic **** There are ruby stained sheets-- that's blood, obviously, and, I dunno, maybe somebody died on a bed? Everyone can **** my **** To be or not to be, that is the shut the **** up. Rapists are disgusting people. They aren't people. ******* idiots. Romanticizing everything you wish you had because suicide, mental illness, and eating disorders make you cool, riiiigghhhttt? **** you. If you do this, you aren't interesting. You're just you. Get used to it. There are people that go through these issues and they don't think it's ******* rad, ******* I hate 75% of the south. The south will rise again? Get the **** out of here. Stalin was a **** Most writers are ***** Most of them **** I don't care. For the love of "God", if I read one more poem about what poetry is or how to define a poet, I'll slam my head against a ************* knife. Some people are so dumb. Most ******* people. ******* pseudo-knowledge. Armchair philosophers. If you guys wanted to **** yourself, you could jump from your ego to your IQ. Something, something, imagery. Metaphor.

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Apr 7, 2015

Apr 7, 2015 at 1:18 AM UTC

I am in such a **** mood, the mountains have no meaning. Big ******* rocks. **** you, dad. **** you, Fox News. **** you, Indiana. None of you ******* know what irony is. Google that **** Jesus Christ. There are yellow streams-- that's poetic **** There are ruby stained sheets-- that's blood, obviously, and, I dunno, maybe somebody died on a bed? Everyone can **** my **** To be or not to be, that is the shut the **** up. Rapists are disgusting people. They aren't people. ******* idiots. Romanticizing everything you wish you had because suicide, mental illness, and eating disorders make you cool, riiiigghhhttt? **** you. If you do this, you aren't interesting. You're just you. Get used to it. There are people that go through these issues and they don't think it's ******* rad, ******* I hate 75% of the south. The south will rise again? Get the **** out of here. Stalin was a **** Most writers are ***** Most of them **** I don't care. For the love of "God", if I read one more poem about what poetry is or how to define a poet, I'll slam my head against a ************* knife. Some people are so dumb. Most ******* people. ******* pseudo-knowledge. Armchair philosophers. If you guys wanted to **** yourself, you could jump from your ego to your IQ. Something, something, imagery. Metaphor.

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This job is just one long drawn out lobotomy. Hey quit putting gum on the bottom of these desks you ******* I can think of a few ways to get out of here but I don't think I can afford a ****** harassment lawsuit. I'm about 2 minutes away from a faking a seizure and about 5 from a real one. Hey Guantanamo Bay, are your methods of torture outdated and boring? Then have I got a deal for you... You think you can just drop Seinfeld references and I won't pick up on them? You thought wrong, ***** I think I lost the ability to see color... All work and no play makes Ashton a dull boy... I'm still waiting on Betty White to crawl her old *** out here and tell me this is some kind of practical joke. Homelessness is looking more and more like a serious option Don't pull the fire alarm. Don't pull the fire alarm. Don't pull the fire alarm. Enough is enough! I have had it with all these ************* boogers on these ************* desks!

0

Jun 5, 2014

Jun 5, 2014 at 6:01 PM UTC

Rants of a Teenage Janitor

This job is just one long drawn out lobotomy. Hey quit putting gum on the bottom of these desks you ******* I can think of a few ways to get out of here but I don't think I can afford a ****** harassment lawsuit. I'm about 2 minutes away from a faking a seizure and about 5 from a real one. Hey Guantanamo Bay, are your methods of torture outdated and boring? Then have I got a deal for you... You think you can just drop Seinfeld references and I won't pick up on them? You thought wrong, ***** I think I lost the ability to see color... All work and no play makes Ashton a dull boy... I'm still waiting on Betty White to crawl her old *** out here and tell me this is some kind of practical joke. Homelessness is looking more and more like a serious option Don't pull the fire alarm. Don't pull the fire alarm. Don't pull the fire alarm. Enough is enough! I have had it with all these ************* boogers on these ************* desks!

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The lonely little shepherd boy Sat on the moonlit hill Basking in the glory Of the thrill Of his first **** First to die was father Aborted in his prime Next to die was mother For ignoring all the signs Cut them into pieces Tossed them in a trunk Had a cry Waved goodbye Until the ******* sunk And sunk they did There in that trunk Erasing all Boy's fear And After it was over Life’s mist began to clear Saw his future beckon him *"Hurry now be quick time is of the essence we cannot miss a trick. Gather up all your belongings Meet me down the lake. There are things we need to talk about. Things we need to contemplate”* Boy was pretty nifty Packed up all his bits Raced down to the rendezvous But left behind his wits Along the way Boy was plagued With demons of self doubt *Whisper Whisper Whisper* Boy could not block them out Wormed their way into his mind Boy was fit to burst Panic overcame him Boy now thought that he was cursed Reached deep into the hold all Pulled out his father’s gun Placed the barrel in his mouth Killed his parent’s son The lonely little shepherd boy Died on that moonlit hill Is there really such a concept as the notion of freewill?

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Oct 26, 2010

Oct 26, 2010 at 9:16 AM UTC

The lonely little shepherd boy Sat on the moonlit hill Basking in the glory Of the thrill Of his first **** First to die was father Aborted in his prime Next to die was mother For ignoring all the signs Cut them into pieces Tossed them in a trunk Had a cry Waved goodbye Until the ******* sunk And sunk they did There in that trunk Erasing all Boy's fear And After it was over Life’s mist began to clear Saw his future beckon him *"Hurry now be quick time is of the essence we cannot miss a trick. Gather up all your belongings Meet me down the lake. There are things we need to talk about. Things we need to contemplate”* Boy was pretty nifty Packed up all his bits Raced down to the rendezvous But left behind his wits Along the way Boy was plagued With demons of self doubt *Whisper Whisper Whisper* Boy could not block them out Wormed their way into his mind Boy was fit to burst Panic overcame him Boy now thought that he was cursed Reached deep into the hold all Pulled out his father’s gun Placed the barrel in his mouth Killed his parent’s son The lonely little shepherd boy Died on that moonlit hill Is there really such a concept as the notion of freewill?

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Yadda......yadda......yadda he's dying of loneliness Go listen to the news They're Nine million people lonely in the country You're all known for your coldness Some don't even know their neighbours You abandon your parents when they get old Put them away in Retirement homes when was the last time you saw your elderly mum when was the last time you called your sister Thank God for the GRASS being the scapegoat used by crooks To illustrate community mobbing let us all gang up together Now you're hugging the Asians and the blacks are your best friends yadda......yadda......yadda come join the club we are all mates now against that outsider grass we welcome all the ***** ******* are molesting women oh it's just to make grass envious cause we've stopped him loving talk to me I hate you no more because grass is more hated no more bullying you just join us and help us harass that grass don't trouble that foreign shopkeeper we now want him to join welcome Muslim brothers and sisters come join us we now like you cause we have somebody else to hate hey Mr ugly come here for a hug just make sure its in front of grass you my loner friend be lonely no more you are now a club member you Somalian, you Ethopian, you chinese, you Ugandan no matter everyone is friends no more hassle just hate the grass as much as us yadda......yadda......yadda this is politics we fool and fool you all when we need you you are our best friends we show you our commonality and bring you into the fold just make sure you do as you're told and don't grass like grass we will give you opportunities to make grass jealous we will forge a grapevine from here to Kathmandu and beyond we will teach you hate and poison your stinking minds we will imprison you and make you our slaves to serve us just make sure you give that grass a hard time and come for a prize this is all our secret and your minds belongs to us gangstalking crew make him lonely make him friendless and show viva democracy You are all simpletons and that's how you will stay in our pockets this is a union of morons by morons for morons and the crooks win yadda......yadda......yadda

0

Sep 29, 2018

Sep 29, 2018 at 3:26 AM UTC

Yadda....Yadda......Yadda......

Yadda......yadda......yadda he's dying of loneliness Go listen to the news They're Nine million people lonely in the country You're all known for your coldness Some don't even know their neighbours You abandon your parents when they get old Put them away in Retirement homes when was the last time you saw your elderly mum when was the last time you called your sister Thank God for the GRASS being the scapegoat used by crooks To illustrate community mobbing let us all gang up together Now you're hugging the Asians and the blacks are your best friends yadda......yadda......yadda come join the club we are all mates now against that outsider grass we welcome all the ***** ******* are molesting women oh it's just to make grass envious cause we've stopped him loving talk to me I hate you no more because grass is more hated no more bullying you just join us and help us harass that grass don't trouble that foreign shopkeeper we now want him to join welcome Muslim brothers and sisters come join us we now like you cause we have somebody else to hate hey Mr ugly come here for a hug just make sure its in front of grass you my loner friend be lonely no more you are now a club member you Somalian, you Ethopian, you chinese, you Ugandan no matter everyone is friends no more hassle just hate the grass as much as us yadda......yadda......yadda this is politics we fool and fool you all when we need you you are our best friends we show you our commonality and bring you into the fold just make sure you do as you're told and don't grass like grass we will give you opportunities to make grass jealous we will forge a grapevine from here to Kathmandu and beyond we will teach you hate and poison your stinking minds we will imprison you and make you our slaves to serve us just make sure you give that grass a hard time and come for a prize this is all our secret and your minds belongs to us gangstalking crew make him lonely make him friendless and show viva democracy You are all simpletons and that's how you will stay in our pockets this is a union of morons by morons for morons and the crooks win yadda......yadda......yadda

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We're all looking for someone, Whose demons play well with our own Try to drown my demons But hey, The ******* can swim Learnt every trick in the book They've come to stay Toying with my emotions Their playground is my mind The day is done Light disappears Darkness settles They've come to play Shall they have their way? The dark invites them in They're inside having fun 'Just one cut', they whisper And it is done My razor-kissed hand, Is a pretty awful sight No more space for damage Where next shall I try? They want to feed off my pain They love to see my beautiful red blood run What do they gain? I've had it! No more! I'm taking back my thoughts I'm taking back my mind Kiss this place goodbye Play time is over

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Jan 6, 2017

Jan 6, 2017 at 12:34 PM UTC

We're all looking for someone, Whose demons play well with our own Try to drown my demons But hey, The ******* can swim Learnt every trick in the book They've come to stay Toying with my emotions Their playground is my mind The day is done Light disappears Darkness settles They've come to play Shall they have their way? The dark invites them in They're inside having fun 'Just one cut', they whisper And it is done My razor-kissed hand, Is a pretty awful sight No more space for damage Where next shall I try? They want to feed off my pain They love to see my beautiful red blood run What do they gain? I've had it! No more! I'm taking back my thoughts I'm taking back my mind Kiss this place goodbye Play time is over

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What is it I'm here for? I swear I stay in my feels Yeah I **** up man But come on what's the deal I work really hard, & I tell uto keep it real. But all these mother ******* out for positivity to steal. I Keep my head high or something like that... Hating *** ******* still tryna tilt it back. I don't give a **** about about what everyone has to say.. I'm out here living and guess what my rents still gonna get paid. You fake ******* I'll slay... Looking for a man to pay your way. I don't need **** from any of you sheep *** ******* I'm a wolf, lead the pack, quick attack.. you need stitches. You can't keep up with me At least not mentally All you haters do is talk **** all day but could you really step it G? Ha. That I'd like to see. I don't know if it's just me.. But for once everyone Just leave me be.

0

Feb 3, 2017

Feb 3, 2017 at 4:46 AM UTC

What is it I'm here for? I swear I stay in my feels Yeah I **** up man But come on what's the deal I work really hard, & I tell uto keep it real. But all these mother ******* out for positivity to steal. I Keep my head high or something like that... Hating *** ******* still tryna tilt it back. I don't give a **** about about what everyone has to say.. I'm out here living and guess what my rents still gonna get paid. You fake ******* I'll slay... Looking for a man to pay your way. I don't need **** from any of you sheep *** ******* I'm a wolf, lead the pack, quick attack.. you need stitches. You can't keep up with me At least not mentally All you haters do is talk **** all day but could you really step it G? Ha. That I'd like to see. I don't know if it's just me.. But for once everyone Just leave me be.

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Father, Son, Mechanic… Man, I’ve wanted to talk to you – really talk to you – for some time now. to see your face in front of me, instead of dangling from necklaces, or hanging, melancholy, over sexless couples’ beds. I’ve spent a lot of time reading all that stuff you wrote (supposedly), and I’ve enjoyed it, Man, I have. but I keep wanting it to be a letter, when in the end it’s just a bipartisan explanation – an engineer’s guide to building a pretty vehicle around a faulty engine. I always see you, arms spread, sprawled across the older bitter-america’s steering wheel. my mama would tease me, saying you’d want me to help some day. but you and your cronies drove me like a beat-down El Camino, joyfully taking me through wrong turns and bumpy streets waiting for my chassis to split. and once I ran out of gas to offer, you refused to touch me at all, letting me rot in your cobweb garage. and all those ******* in turtlenecks and polos popped, they’ve gleefully branded your logo on their chemical biceps and gaily explain how close you were. how they knew you like no one else did, how you guys didn’t have a connection, but a relationship. people should only let their mechanics touch their cars, though, and keep their innards free of oily fingers. to be honest, I don’t think I’ll be coming back to this establishment again. it’s a little too clean for my taste, and your prices are way to high especially when all you get is a little peace of mind and a sense of humbled grandeur. don’t worry about the car, though – you can keep it. you’ve sort of spoiled all its good intentions, so I’ll be buying a new one sometime soon. I guess I’ll be taking a taxi. No, actually. I’ll hitchhike home.

0

Jul 12, 2010

Jul 12, 2010 at 11:20 PM UTC

david-clifford-turner

Father, Son, Mechanic...

Father, Son, Mechanic… Man, I’ve wanted to talk to you – really talk to you – for some time now. to see your face in front of me, instead of dangling from necklaces, or hanging, melancholy, over sexless couples’ beds. I’ve spent a lot of time reading all that stuff you wrote (supposedly), and I’ve enjoyed it, Man, I have. but I keep wanting it to be a letter, when in the end it’s just a bipartisan explanation – an engineer’s guide to building a pretty vehicle around a faulty engine. I always see you, arms spread, sprawled across the older bitter-america’s steering wheel. my mama would tease me, saying you’d want me to help some day. but you and your cronies drove me like a beat-down El Camino, joyfully taking me through wrong turns and bumpy streets waiting for my chassis to split. and once I ran out of gas to offer, you refused to touch me at all, letting me rot in your cobweb garage. and all those ******* in turtlenecks and polos popped, they’ve gleefully branded your logo on their chemical biceps and gaily explain how close you were. how they knew you like no one else did, how you guys didn’t have a connection, but a relationship. people should only let their mechanics touch their cars, though, and keep their innards free of oily fingers. to be honest, I don’t think I’ll be coming back to this establishment again. it’s a little too clean for my taste, and your prices are way to high especially when all you get is a little peace of mind and a sense of humbled grandeur. don’t worry about the car, though – you can keep it. you’ve sort of spoiled all its good intentions, so I’ll be buying a new one sometime soon. I guess I’ll be taking a taxi. No, actually. I’ll hitchhike home.

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When you approached me, I was smoking a cigarette listening to Macklemore outside my favorite coffeeshop in the rainy city You said something, but I didn't hear you, so I removed my headphones as you asked "Could you help a veteran out by giving him a cigarette?" I said yes, asked you where you had fought you told me Saigon "Oh yeah? Vietnam." you looked at me dressed in a coat that was a color of blue not found in nature face of canyons and told me "We got those ******* good. We did. We got those ******* good. Don't let anyone tell you otherwise." and you walked away. I was stuck in a trance of What the **** was that and yeah, we did get them but I don't know if I'd lay down Agent Orange and call it "good" Take Civil and Guerrilla warfare and try to tie it next to butterflies and welfare checks I don't know what you think is good But me? I can't find any other words for 1.9 to 3.9 million casualties in a war that should never have been fought Than sad and wrong I wonder how many Vietnamese women gave birth to half American babies That they never wanted that didn't even desire to participate in the act of child making I wonder how many Loved their children anyway how many were honest with them how many of those children burnt that odd color of blue that should never exist in nature But then again neither should the bombs children are still unearthing in the North and South of Vietnam I want to know how many of their parents learned that American is another word for a ************ How many of these parents grew up telling their children never trust an American until you know where his gun is pointed because he's always got it pointing somewhere I want to know If you would understand where Saigon, now ** Chi Minh city is on a map if you had never fought there Would you be on the streets of Portland alone asking a college kid who was not alive when you fought in Southeast Asia for a cigarette I wonder where are you going? How many people did you **** how many are you sorry for killing? and then I realize I really don't want to know.

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Mar 19, 2012

Mar 19, 2012 at 12:43 AM UTC

To the Veteran That Needed a Cigarette and Got One

When you approached me, I was smoking a cigarette listening to Macklemore outside my favorite coffeeshop in the rainy city You said something, but I didn't hear you, so I removed my headphones as you asked "Could you help a veteran out by giving him a cigarette?" I said yes, asked you where you had fought you told me Saigon "Oh yeah? Vietnam." you looked at me dressed in a coat that was a color of blue not found in nature face of canyons and told me "We got those ******* good. We did. We got those ******* good. Don't let anyone tell you otherwise." and you walked away. I was stuck in a trance of What the **** was that and yeah, we did get them but I don't know if I'd lay down Agent Orange and call it "good" Take Civil and Guerrilla warfare and try to tie it next to butterflies and welfare checks I don't know what you think is good But me? I can't find any other words for 1.9 to 3.9 million casualties in a war that should never have been fought Than sad and wrong I wonder how many Vietnamese women gave birth to half American babies That they never wanted that didn't even desire to participate in the act of child making I wonder how many Loved their children anyway how many were honest with them how many of those children burnt that odd color of blue that should never exist in nature But then again neither should the bombs children are still unearthing in the North and South of Vietnam I want to know how many of their parents learned that American is another word for a ************ How many of these parents grew up telling their children never trust an American until you know where his gun is pointed because he's always got it pointing somewhere I want to know If you would understand where Saigon, now ** Chi Minh city is on a map if you had never fought there Would you be on the streets of Portland alone asking a college kid who was not alive when you fought in Southeast Asia for a cigarette I wonder where are you going? How many people did you **** how many are you sorry for killing? and then I realize I really don't want to know.

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