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Stuffing Cutting Throats
50 Pounds per picture, take it or leave it beach.
Almost flightless but pounding aggressively, since the devil is everywhere.
Gotta make ends meet somehow, while vegan diet herbs on my porch dried out in the rainy season.
I wonder how…
50 pounds per kilo since nothing is left for me to sell. But myself that is extremely heavy with trash, and you pay a heavy price for it.
Walk beach.
Beach walk.
Not for me, gotta keep those pounds running, rolling, selling inner organs, chewing bitcoins and videofucking the worst match on this app, skeleton coast or skeleton closet, can’t quite remember now, as my thirst for essentialism has died out just when springtime cherry blossom appeared behind my bruised shoulder, I make it up, the mess, by bouldering Oxford degrees, high on cocaine, perhaps could you hug closer and never let go, before I fall off this gig, another song and another song and I dance with my little toes inside my fashionable boot, waterproof, danceless, and other vowels or verbs or vows to take a last breath and commit to romance you, at least until next deathday.
Got lost in this 5th avenue tea party where I saw you for the first time, clinging to a redlight, what were you doing by the way?
Next to a cat, blackjack, hit by a truck.
And we blues it. Mississippi River of tears. (of joy?)
I navigate these drafts to find your heart, love me love me not.
Whatever is necessary to match your vocabulary.
United Kingdom…
