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karen hoose Feb 2011
High upon the tower
of your ego-mania bliss
i am setting bombs and launching rockets
at you: CHRIS.

Christopher McDaniel of Oildale:
******* in the face!
I cannot believe you disgraced
the sacred of my world for your fake needy weakness
like this, and now I do hate!

Now I do hate!
Apprehend yourself for the impact,
I promise you will not enjoy the ride.
For all the lies and falsity,
Whatever did you say to make this arise?

I care not, luxerious one.
Like fly paper so full at Jack's.
I shall go beachward - alone -
since you mean nothing to me,
as I do you.

As I do to you:

mean nothing.
You are really something else.
False pretender of things lovely, demon of boring apathetic hell.

You smell, too so brush the teeth, fool.
stopthatnoise Mar 2014
at about one am
i woke
and erased the poetry I had written
in the margins of my biology textbook

some original
some bukowski and yeats and mcdaniel
bukowski and yeats and
bukowski and yeats
bukowski and
bukowski

it vanished from view in the same manner
i think
as i vanished from your thoughts

i thought that We was an absolute
that We would never not exist

yet
i wrote it in pencil
in the first place

— The End —