fumble poem inspired by markk

by Robertsnw

Posted to Action Poetry on 2001-10-15 14:06:00

fumbling through mantras
humming at nature
with a lick of sarcasm
tasting bitter air
and fog fillin lungs
with ghosts that choose
not to speak
just mime shit
and who cares
i don’t have the patience
for myself
let alone to wait on answers
game shows with retarded host
overwieght sport millionaires
pay me to drink
to slaughter
to kill babies
and smoke dope
with sunglasses on
so the whole world shares
the same hue
satan and God distant cousins
quit talking over the ownership of a couch
and a brown microwave
and thats how this whole thing began
while the rain forests don’t breathe anymore
bark growing thinner
in slow motion suicide
taking us with them
peeps who’d rather inhale emphazema
getting high pumpin gas
run greese through your hair
and call this living
i guess it is


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