"hanley" poems
a man and the household, and how a woman should run one;
please don't...
i rather cook my own meals...
and i don't mean 15 minute ready meals...
i mean: tina turner poaching this lobster
crying... type of meals... a...
oh **** me... i'm getting all sentimental...
i'm jizzing out tears into a hanky... hanley?
no! a chief! a chief! it's the 1980's all over again...
it was some you-tuber asking women to
become housewives... no... no! please no!
i want to cook my own food... women use too
much salt!
i can't stomach woman's cooking...
i don't need that much salt!
what, you had your arab ******* you live in the desert, right?
you are all: alcohol is bad... ooh... alcohol... ba... ba... bad;
alcohol dehyrdates you... you're in a desert...
vectors? pointers?
no? you don't drink alcohol in scandinavia
to party.... you drink it so you don't end up eating snow.
bangladeshi slaves working
on the towers of dubai; fair enough,
and the northern ****
with the "mystcism" of the eastern wind...
**** me! is that συλ(θ/φ)(υ/o)ρ γας?
mustard?
sulphur...
or... one of them... how to be a good woman...
cook for him!
no... really... thank you... i'm not going to
exactly cook a michelin duck...
but now... i know how much salt i need...
and now i'm going to listen to some tina turner,
and feel like one-hundred-dollars...
then i'll eat some food i prepared earlier...
and try to fall asleep with a 9kg *maine ****
ginger cat;
so, hmm.
May 14, 2017
May 14, 2017 at 6:46 PM UTC