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"hires" poems
The President says there is no better party than the party his happens to be. I am dazed and confused with parochial views of those " know better" folks in D.C. He gave us "healthcare" "It's no tax, this I swear" But the Court said a tax it must be. It hires an army of I.R.S. men to perform fiscal prostectomies. In my city and state one can't go off half cocked They frown on us having a gun. The outlaws don't care They're all well armed, I swear. The rest of us call 9-1-1. The President says there is no better party than the party his happens to be. I am dazed and confused with parochial views of those " know better" folks in D.C.. They take from the workers to feed those who don't and call it a democracy Combined with inflation and forced confiscation the buck ain't what it used to be. The President says there is no better party than the party his happens to be. He'll spend half a billion in ads on T.V. to say he knows better than me.
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Jul 27, 2012
Jul 27, 2012 at 8:31 AM UTC
The No Better Party
Pop bottles. Boxes of them. The old man brought them home. He collected them on the construction site, between lifts. Sometimes it would be days between lifts, So he filled time collecting bottles. *Hires, Fanta, Tab, Fresca, 7 Up, Mountain Dew, Canada Dry*... Emptied by men, like him, from all over. What conversations did he have with them When he picked up the empties. Did he indulge? He'd have liked Vernors. Pop bottles were as good as gold. Large bottles, a nickel: Small, two cents. He kept us busy, weeding, straightening nails, digging, mixing cement, building fences, painting them, and the house; Root cellars, garages, additions; In fair, wet, or hot conditions. Winter had it's own cuffs. We'd cash in the bottles at Walker Bros. Every Sunday he'd leave for weeks, Up North, to places like Kapuskasing and Hearst. He must've been thinking about us up there, Collecting our bottles, In fair, wet, or hot conditions.
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May 7, 2018
May 7, 2018 at 10:03 PM UTC
Bottles. Pop Bottles
Aww, how sweet, You always knew What to do To make me feel like Garbage stew, To make me eat The poison glue you spew, To make me drag My ragged feet Wherever your Poisoned heart Leads you to. With mine on my sleeve I keep in tow And leak from head to toe, From every swollen pore The saline flows and Drips down in Rivulets to sow Sterile seeds And offset The burning scent Of cigarettes In the hair that keeps Whipping my face With the pace Of expanding internet. Oh well, I'm all set With the ******** I'm fine with your Sense of entitlement, I'll get by Without your "Enlightenment," Call it what you want, It's still just Getting bent Getting ****** Getting exactly what you love, And I bet you'll recount To me how it went, With no regard for What it meant to me, But my energy is spent So get to gettin', Take every cent From my memory bank, I'll burn every brain cell That might have lent You the time of day With forty two Glasses Of chardonnay And a few pressed pills I bought from Kid A, Don't worry, just chill, That's not the way Out things ever play, More likely I'd wake up to see your face Open its mouth And ******* say Some ****** up **** To ruin my day, But hey, That's the cycle I perpetuate, Cuz Michael Loves a sparring mate I guess, not sure, doesn't Really make much sense, Especially since A running mate Is closer to the figure 8 On it's side that I desire, Instead I get a cut rate Liar who equates Love with ****** desire, He might make you scream, But I'll set you on fire. Either way it seems You just like to perspire, Just don't forget that I Can make you expire With a call down The telephone wire To my Styrofoam supplier, Nah jk, just being a clown, Just trying to acquire Enough sounds and frowns That I can use for Funeral pyres For me and all these new hires, Unknown girls I can use To forget her, The higher the better.
0
Oct 2, 2012
Oct 2, 2012 at 1:04 AM UTC
--Carol Gerber--
Aww, how sweet, You always knew What to do To make me feel like Garbage stew, To make me eat The poison glue you spew, To make me drag My ragged feet Wherever your Poisoned heart Leads you to. With mine on my sleeve I keep in tow And leak from head to toe, From every swollen pore The saline flows and Drips down in Rivulets to sow Sterile seeds And offset The burning scent Of cigarettes In the hair that keeps Whipping my face With the pace Of expanding internet. Oh well, I'm all set With the ******** I'm fine with your Sense of entitlement, I'll get by Without your "Enlightenment," Call it what you want, It's still just Getting bent Getting ****** Getting exactly what you love, And I bet you'll recount To me how it went, With no regard for What it meant to me, But my energy is spent So get to gettin', Take every cent From my memory bank, I'll burn every brain cell That might have lent You the time of day With forty two Glasses Of chardonnay And a few pressed pills I bought from Kid A, Don't worry, just chill, That's not the way Out things ever play, More likely I'd wake up to see your face Open its mouth And ******* say Some ****** up **** To ruin my day, But hey, That's the cycle I perpetuate, Cuz Michael Loves a sparring mate I guess, not sure, doesn't Really make much sense, Especially since A running mate Is closer to the figure 8 On it's side that I desire, Instead I get a cut rate Liar who equates Love with ****** desire, He might make you scream, But I'll set you on fire. Either way it seems You just like to perspire, Just don't forget that I Can make you expire With a call down The telephone wire To my Styrofoam supplier, Nah jk, just being a clown, Just trying to acquire Enough sounds and frowns That I can use for Funeral pyres For me and all these new hires, Unknown girls I can use To forget her, The higher the better.
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98
The president loves to carry on About his gut and how it guides him. How can anybody believe A word of all of his nonsense besides him? His gut encourages him to lie And do it while he keeps a straight face. It helps him create far-fetched stories To dupe and galvanize his base. His gut is great at seeking out The shiftiest autocrats around, So he can make America His autocratic proving ground. It's also very good at distracting The country from what is REALLY going on-- At how to attract his servile lackeys While he plays the role of the don. It helps him to be great at knowing How to pander to various groups Such as evangelicals Who kiss his you-know-what. Oops! His gut tells him that scientists Are full of baloney when they proclaim That global warming is a threat And humankind is largely to blame. His gut says illegal voting Is rampant. Doesn't he find it odd That experts have found no proof at all Of widespread voter fraud? His gut says he hires the best people. That makes him SO excited. But how many have left their jobs? How many have been indicted? His gut said that he could pay money To silence affairs and get away with it. Did his gut let him know Whether his wife would be okay with it? His gut tells him that as the leader He can do what he desires, Which must include collusion, obstruction Of justice, and calling dissenters liars. Yes, I agree: gut feeling Can be useful at times, BUT Why can't the president Start using reason and NOT his gut? -by Bob B (11-30-18)
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Nov 30, 2018
Nov 30, 2018 at 1:15 PM UTC
Gut Feeling
The president loves to carry on About his gut and how it guides him. How can anybody believe A word of all of his nonsense besides him? His gut encourages him to lie And do it while he keeps a straight face. It helps him create far-fetched stories To dupe and galvanize his base. His gut is great at seeking out The shiftiest autocrats around, So he can make America His autocratic proving ground. It's also very good at distracting The country from what is REALLY going on-- At how to attract his servile lackeys While he plays the role of the don. It helps him to be great at knowing How to pander to various groups Such as evangelicals Who kiss his you-know-what. Oops! His gut tells him that scientists Are full of baloney when they proclaim That global warming is a threat And humankind is largely to blame. His gut says illegal voting Is rampant. Doesn't he find it odd That experts have found no proof at all Of widespread voter fraud? His gut says he hires the best people. That makes him SO excited. But how many have left their jobs? How many have been indicted? His gut said that he could pay money To silence affairs and get away with it. Did his gut let him know Whether his wife would be okay with it? His gut tells him that as the leader He can do what he desires, Which must include collusion, obstruction Of justice, and calling dissenters liars. Yes, I agree: gut feeling Can be useful at times, BUT Why can't the president Start using reason and NOT his gut? -by Bob B (11-30-18)
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45
"I saw what it does to people," you said with a mixture of disdain and disgust like you were talking about **** addicts before and after pictures. "I hate girlfriends," you said to me after you told me we weren't going out on Valentines Day because your ex set you up with someone else and you "have to" go and who is afraid of Berkeley and all those new idee-ers The vegan restaurants with rice milk whipped cream The pleasant outdoor cafes with people learning, studying the only "Ivy League" public University... All those things there to open your mind and make you think differently and you may begin to believe in Global Warming and even though you don't, those thoughts may haunt you but I know there are scientists working in labs all over the world trying to figure out what to do about it ... Socialism, you are afraid of that too but what is it when Walmart hands out an application for public healthcare to all their new hires since they will never be able to afford their own and Walmart can't share any money on their behalf In the Netherlands, mink farms have been outlawed yet you like to dissect them in your class and carry around the poor dead skinless creature in a clear plastic bag around the school and many of those places prefer to pay the fees and citations of skinning the animals alive rather than pay to **** them before skinning why doesn't that bother you?
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Feb 18, 2013
Feb 18, 2013 at 12:54 PM UTC
Fear of Berkeley
She rides a badass Harley and she doesn't give a **** about what the neighbors are saying, because she lives her life not worrying about judgements of the image they say she's portraying But then on the other hand… She loves bubble baths and babies, flora and fauna, manicures, pedicures and dancing, she likes holding hands and soft gentle kisses and she thinks poetry is totally romancing But then on the other, other hand… I've seen her fire a 44 Magnum and i can tell you, her targets are rarely missed And the way she shifts a standard transmission she says it's done with flick of the wrist But then on the other, other, other hand... She speaks very softly with a pretty little voice, and her whisper is enchanting and crisp, her favorite thing is to snuggle real close, and the ways of the philanthropist But then on the other, other, other, other hand... She knows how to plow a field for growing, and shes shoveled her share of **** shes not afraid to dress a deep wound, or drink wiskey, or swear, or spit She manages an office full of egos and divas, she hires and fires at will, and if your stupid you'll threaten her loved ones, shell definitely maime or **** But…………..
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May 12, 2016
May 12, 2016 at 2:14 PM UTC
Salty n' Sweet
bottomless. I never end. I never began. I give            a n d                       I will keep on giving. ... repetitive. dry. eternally cloudy skies. with a chance of rain. no more sunny days. simply, superficial. reeking of worldly successes. failing to fail at anything at all. endless. listen: "young. promising. driven." the truth: empty. silent. a puppet. puppeteer? ... drained. But, no one can stop me. no one can save me. no one can stop me. no one can save me. save me. no one can save me. no one can save. no one can. no one. bottomless. I give            a n d                      I will keep on giving. after. after? wars. disappointments. even after this broken heart. ... no one hires for the heart. salary isn't determined by sincerity. no one can stop me. no one can save me. no one can stop me. no one can save me. no one. not. even. myself.
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Sep 5, 2010
Sep 5, 2010 at 9:27 PM UTC
Bare Bones
If anyone hires you for good , It means you are still in a good position ,but If anyone hires you for bad , It means you will get yourself in trouble ... Help wanted is either For good or for bad ... If anyone needs you ,then He will automatically hire you for good ,but If someone does not need you ,then He will not hire you ... Life teaches us many lessons and One of them is displayed as Never kneel down to any job Simply because if they need you ,then They will inevitably hire you ...
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Feb 8, 2015
Feb 8, 2015 at 2:19 PM UTC
A work or a job
on her fiftieth birthday our alleged mother hires a driver to remain parked outside an abandoned warehouse. she promises to pay the driver extra if he sees more than two stray beasts and promises further employment if he consciously brings the uglier of the two or more home to his children. we hear offhandedly these things and others as if we are hidden inside a very large cake. the driver is an hour deep into the assignment when he notices a barefoot woman flat on her belly scooting across a puddle of oil near the warehouse entrance. the woman is swallowed by the puddle before the driver can call to her or commit her outfit to memory. he says aloud *she was feral and her ******* had to be, by then, bleeding*. it’s christmas morning when the driver comes to and his wife’s sister has this look like she could **** the red from a childhood firehouse. his kids are crying over invisible toys. invisible because our mother touches the future without looking.
0
Apr 15, 2013
Apr 15, 2013 at 3:10 PM UTC
dream logic
perfect teeth shine-out every advertisement hires a jaw or two matched gleaming through the inevitable decay a smiling skull is all we have
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Jul 9, 2015
Jul 9, 2015 at 7:53 PM UTC
A Smiling Skull
You get hired and fired, work for nothing you're tired and the rent's due on Friday. You aspire to greatness and get less and get less until the mess that you're in becomes a part of you, in spite of you trying to get by and why are you dying? and they fire you again and someone hires you again and it's tiring again and the rent's due on Friday. The day that you die day is Friday and will be until you see that it's pointless to get less and stay in the mess that you're in. So spin the bottle and make the call open the throttle smash into a wall. It's about choices I guess, a mess is less of a mess when you're trying to clean up your act. Isn't cleanliness next to godliness? on the chess board where the King meets the Queen the pawns haven't seen the end of it. So hire me and fire me and wire me the news don't confuse me with words which I don't often use, The rent's due on Friday if I work I might pay it or I might stay in bed and pretend that I'm ill.
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Nov 24, 2015
Nov 24, 2015 at 12:05 PM UTC
The Styptic stencil
If humankind was just one man His house would be the world He'd live on only takeaways The curtains never furled His clothing would be shabby Just a mess of cloth and strings But on his little finger Are a dozen diamond rings The body might be starving But the pinky hoards its gold The hunger could be ended With a single diamond sold The kitchen could be mended The gloom made slightly brighter That's not the pinky's problem So it holds on even tighter It hires the other fingers And one adjacent thumb To stab the legs repeatedly And beat the kidneys numb The body starts to waste away And much to its surprise Along with every other thing The little finger dies
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Apr 28, 2017
Apr 28, 2017 at 1:45 PM UTC
If We Were All One Person
New Heights New hires No Shows Yes sires King Earth Wealth perth Owner Commander an Z Go Sleep No Zee Camps Awake Clapped Cheeks Grown Cheech Alley Cat Roam the Village Gun safe racked Us armed Bullet proof windows Kevlar vest Team on my back Crest on my chest Central best Central west Paint go bang Whole city gang 385 million arms For thy Nation The Greatest Who Paved it We crave it We beg it We fight it We grave it We write it We wrote it Dont Quote it Quote hit Numbers climbing Bodies piling Bible lying God ****** So tragic Face traffic Cult classic
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Jun 28, 2024
Jun 28, 2024 at 6:41 AM UTC
"Commander and Z" By: Z
His name brings to mind A besuited baboon And a **** poor excuse For a business tycoon Famous for firing Much more than he hires High-heels and boxes He often requires Cack handed on twitter As in real life If he could, he’d have taken Himself for a wife And it seems you can slander Whomever you choose When your name is an anagram Of **** Ragus” And if I were the tabloids I’d land a low blow He’s Polish and Russian By descent, don’t you know? But that would be nasty So I’ll leave it at that It’s not clever to smear You arrogant **** CS*
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Apr 5, 2018
Apr 5, 2018 at 3:57 PM UTC
Spun Sugar: An Ode to Alan
As the world falls asleep, darkness blankets everyone. The children warm in their beds, the lovers happily snuggled against each other, the new parents hoping to get just one night of peace and quiet, the old woman who is sleeping alone for the first time in 80 years, the single father who guiltily hires a nanny to watch his son during the day, the lost man slumped against a building on a cold winter's night, they are all covered by the same blanket of dark. Then why have they yet to notice each other?
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Sep 18, 2014
Sep 18, 2014 at 12:52 AM UTC
Night
Spoken mouth Breath of air taken sword Peaceful leisure In finding tongue Counting backwards Time elapsing Frustrating lies but Why catching hires Flying spies Holding onto What was Once nice Fire, flies Sparks Ignite From Mere- Goodbyes
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Nov 1, 2015
Nov 1, 2015 at 6:19 PM UTC
History
Our king-kong sized terrible two has realized an even more devious way to line the Trump organized crime family's pockets, he's having NASA do a trip to Mars in preparation for a manned landing by some white guy who'll also be tasked to play golf on the moons too. RumputiN will throw in a little histoire to make the photos more appealing to his multi- millionaire foreign dictator pals: "They're named after the Greek mythological twin characters Phobos (panic/fear) and Deimos (terror/dread) (The Donald's domestic and foreign policy, respectively), who went with their father Ares into battle. Ares, god of war, was known to the Romans as Mars. This will up the price he can charge them for renting out the Lincoln bedroom, cafknching, being the united **** of assassins new motto. His current fav tool of stealing tax dollas is still doing genocide, classwar style against Latinos. He ripped apart 7000 families to gift overtime, doubletime, more hires, multi- million dolla private detention center contracts to republican manned anti-immigrant Gov't agencies + his lifelong criminal cronies. These kids are caged, allowed little soap, showers, running water, food, etc.. Similar conditions to 40's US internment camps. This should be one of the articles of impeachment against him. Dinos, like Nancy 'Chamberlain' Pelosi, can be scolded if impeachment doesn't go only forward, for if it's not completed in the House before the 2020 elections, RumputiN/vlad-the-impaler may be re-installed into the Blackhouse by the same conspiracy that did it in 2016. Viva la evolucion.
0
Jul 12, 2019
Jul 12, 2019 at 3:27 AM UTC
Acosta=RumputiN=Epstein
Our king-kong sized terrible two has realized an even more devious way to line the Trump organized crime family's pockets, he's having NASA do a trip to Mars in preparation for a manned landing by some white guy who'll also be tasked to play golf on the moons too. RumputiN will throw in a little histoire to make the photos more appealing to his multi- millionaire foreign dictator pals: "They're named after the Greek mythological twin characters Phobos (panic/fear) and Deimos (terror/dread) (The Donald's domestic and foreign policy, respectively), who went with their father Ares into battle. Ares, god of war, was known to the Romans as Mars. This will up the price he can charge them for renting out the Lincoln bedroom, cafknching, being the united **** of assassins new motto. His current fav tool of stealing tax dollas is still doing genocide, classwar style against Latinos. He ripped apart 7000 families to gift overtime, doubletime, more hires, multi- million dolla private detention center contracts to republican manned anti-immigrant Gov't agencies + his lifelong criminal cronies. These kids are caged, allowed little soap, showers, running water, food, etc.. Similar conditions to 40's US internment camps. This should be one of the articles of impeachment against him. Dinos, like Nancy 'Chamberlain' Pelosi, can be scolded if impeachment doesn't go only forward, for if it's not completed in the House before the 2020 elections, RumputiN/vlad-the-impaler may be re-installed into the Blackhouse by the same conspiracy that did it in 2016. Viva la evolucion.
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36
It's Christmastime in Trumplandia. The halls are decked with boughs of folly, Ol' Frosty the Snowman is melting, And sleigh bells are sounding melancholy. The president has an abundance of hassles: Ongoing investigations, Failed attempts at accomplishments, Embarrassments, and accusations. He believes his supporting staff Will help him work out all the kinks And claims he's the favorite president! Something is rotten in DC, methinks. Wondering why he can't wield More power, he disdains Anyone who makes an attempt To open his eyes or pull on his reins. He'll pick a fight with anyone Who doesn't give him flattery or praise. Many devoted staff and supporters Apparently share the leader's malaise. Not trusting true experts, He looks elsewhere for his muse: At Alex Jones, Hannity, Or the vicious harpy who haunts Fox News. He says he hires the best people-- Not!--and knows what's best for the nation. He's backing a candidate for the Senate Who's been accused of child molestation. His organization is raking in dough, While Trump insists he's breaking no laws. Why not follow the foreign money? And what about the emoluments clause? His favorite world leaders are Autocrats who aren't so pleasant. Their mutual butt-kissing will have to Be their mutual Christmas present. Santa Trump and his elves in Congress Are working together in order to dole Tax breaks out to the wealthiest, while The rest of us will end up with coal. Chestnuts won't be roasting on An open fire this year. No way! Our winter wonderland's become A messy winter holiday. -by Bob B (11-28-17)
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Nov 28, 2017
Nov 28, 2017 at 8:36 AM UTC
Christmastime in Trumplandia--2017
It's Christmastime in Trumplandia. The halls are decked with boughs of folly, Ol' Frosty the Snowman is melting, And sleigh bells are sounding melancholy. The president has an abundance of hassles: Ongoing investigations, Failed attempts at accomplishments, Embarrassments, and accusations. He believes his supporting staff Will help him work out all the kinks And claims he's the favorite president! Something is rotten in DC, methinks. Wondering why he can't wield More power, he disdains Anyone who makes an attempt To open his eyes or pull on his reins. He'll pick a fight with anyone Who doesn't give him flattery or praise. Many devoted staff and supporters Apparently share the leader's malaise. Not trusting true experts, He looks elsewhere for his muse: At Alex Jones, Hannity, Or the vicious harpy who haunts Fox News. He says he hires the best people-- Not!--and knows what's best for the nation. He's backing a candidate for the Senate Who's been accused of child molestation. His organization is raking in dough, While Trump insists he's breaking no laws. Why not follow the foreign money? And what about the emoluments clause? His favorite world leaders are Autocrats who aren't so pleasant. Their mutual butt-kissing will have to Be their mutual Christmas present. Santa Trump and his elves in Congress Are working together in order to dole Tax breaks out to the wealthiest, while The rest of us will end up with coal. Chestnuts won't be roasting on An open fire this year. No way! Our winter wonderland's become A messy winter holiday. -by Bob B (11-28-17)
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45
It's all about our own selfishness, It's all about our own burning desires. Nothing is in this world to faith over recklessness, Nothing is in this world  to spark over furious fires. Sparing the moment for sake of happiness, Sparing the years for ignorance of peace that hires.
0
Mar 19, 2018
Mar 19, 2018 at 9:25 AM UTC
That's what we are.
call it, cell division restrictions with heavy implications on age limit correlations   old and decrepit one day your fingers will become brittle sticks wrapped inconsistently in thin wrinkly papers approaching uselessness every page gets turned slower understood less and less often as everything begins to be forgotten watch out now here comes genomic instability aka the road to an old death or a cancerous death or a radiation death maybe a chemical death or from sharp metal or heavy stone perhaps from the claws or teeth of another clever beast (an inaudible noise) whatever's clever, it's all ******* death when it starts... it progresses (pray for quickness) please dear have a little neurodegeneration with that it won't matter, you'll forget and **** your pants eventually   maybe she's born with it maybe it's recombinational DNA repair error either way we're all on our own way into cyclic deficiencies of repair that night shift mr. fix it staff the stupid intern who makes the copies gets the coffee eventually, the manager hires his nephew and outsources the night shift to mental patients things then start to unravel as all things fall apart   sometimes it's exogeny other times from within endogenous like anyway, it's all "whatever" ("it's not a tuma!") these things that are eventual, tend to be tragic universally so the upper limit to individual "forever's" this could be law when that which you cannot see stops doing what you cannot believe you tend to die and everything has it's time to die everyone of us becomes due in time to become one spectacle of a tragedy or another like you've never seen before like you would never believe until it happens to you... when you go, when you hear, ha... that, (inaudible sound)
0
Jun 6, 2018
Jun 6, 2018 at 10:07 PM UTC
Hayflick
call it, cell division restrictions with heavy implications on age limit correlations   old and decrepit one day your fingers will become brittle sticks wrapped inconsistently in thin wrinkly papers approaching uselessness every page gets turned slower understood less and less often as everything begins to be forgotten watch out now here comes genomic instability aka the road to an old death or a cancerous death or a radiation death maybe a chemical death or from sharp metal or heavy stone perhaps from the claws or teeth of another clever beast (an inaudible noise) whatever's clever, it's all ******* death when it starts... it progresses (pray for quickness) please dear have a little neurodegeneration with that it won't matter, you'll forget and **** your pants eventually   maybe she's born with it maybe it's recombinational DNA repair error either way we're all on our own way into cyclic deficiencies of repair that night shift mr. fix it staff the stupid intern who makes the copies gets the coffee eventually, the manager hires his nephew and outsources the night shift to mental patients things then start to unravel as all things fall apart   sometimes it's exogeny other times from within endogenous like anyway, it's all "whatever" ("it's not a tuma!") these things that are eventual, tend to be tragic universally so the upper limit to individual "forever's" this could be law when that which you cannot see stops doing what you cannot believe you tend to die and everything has it's time to die everyone of us becomes due in time to become one spectacle of a tragedy or another like you've never seen before like you would never believe until it happens to you... when you go, when you hear, ha... that, (inaudible sound)
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62
an arrogant conductor hires me for a show it’s a cultural exchange, as we’re from different tribes he gives me guitar music, a D chord with 4 staves i ask him how he wants it played "as it’s written!" but the 4 bare slashes tell me nothing it’s like working in a restaurant and getting an order for chicken "how you want this chicken?" "follow the recipe!" and the recipe is a picture of a chicken so i cook it the way i like it basted with latin flavor oh, he’s ****** after the show but the audience eats it up
0
Oct 2, 2018
Oct 2, 2018 at 9:35 AM UTC
RECIPE