Friday, July 11, 2008

Mr. Naked Rain

They can not see me
like Hitler
you'll be like hair
your sunken handle

A beer hated by the seasons

no lagers, now my name
the pox and the Marleys

Cheer, and a sweater
Never niecing the dirt


Yum, Money!
My Clyde-tear

Hoping I crack a semen
a goblet
on some baggy bullshit

It ain't chicken if you got it


I mill
Don't smell
her flour

Icy-like face


Crystal wave,
data wave

If you get mugged
I make it all back to Murray
streets like sauce, man-sounds, cream salad

I wear ape-chains
like Spartacus