Poetry

Speshial Deshial

King Tut’s tomb, Milkyways were scattered
A wife in the corner crying battered
But wait. The scene gets sadder

A boy with a grey lollipop
Makes a face when he sucks and gets no flavor
Outside my neighbors sleep depressed
They think that God is testing them

If you masturbate for one hour
When you nut, it shoots out farther
And old garbs will clean it up
Like Pine Sol. I also like dryer sheets
Brushed my teeth today
Now I’m loving how my teeth look

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Sonnet

Sonnet Man

Satanic Saturday splatter matter at Hooray
Shattered moon rocks in my tube socks make my Jordans drip
Look into the crass Pastor’s face as I MASTURBATE
Boarding a ship, Ed Norton’s fist, and Freudian slips

Ok. Mr. Sonnet Man. Da chronic is lee-gal
Malcontents pay rent and glide the marsh to scrap a change
Chal. Chow mein pals. Watch the fellas living in ree-gals
Streets called Canal, guy named Sal, lying in the bus lane

Fuck. A truck, guess 100 bucks to fill it neatly
Pride Parade like everyday, thus I tire of faggots
To meet me is collision, Parks could not unseat me
A can of paint ain’t the trick, slice a wrist and tag it

Now to end it, I can end in so many fashions
Jump into the teller’s arms that is what I’m cashing

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Poetry

Chair Munoz

I masturbated into a flower pot
And I swear the lillies grew 10 inches

Finches, they are fish
But I couldn’t distinguish them to save my life
My new wife, is life, and she’s a hell of a woman
Now I’ma rhyme that with tuhman

I kissed the TV, a young Salma Hayek appeared
I touch my own ears to make sure they are there
I comb my hair as I look to see what I’ll wear

My firstborn, I will name him or her, Chair

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