Casual poetry

File: tree-by-river.jpg (27KB, 522x335px) Image search: [Google]

27KB, 522x335px

I see dead people-
Mangled sex;
fucking corpses.
Jumbled texts,
over the sky tops.
Drove my corolla down
the white suburbs to hoboland,
took my knife out and
shanked a bitch,
methed up, heroin heroi.
Ne.
.
.
.
I couldn’t tell when I started,
I always dropped people on a whim
drowned myself in the creek,
that sort of thing.
Deep-down the needle stick
I think I know
I think I do.
‘Fuck the world’
And my sloppy dick
Is in another orifice,
and like the rapids down the river,
my cum shall gush.
The Fed said they’ll let me
out for good behaviour.
Somewhere I heard the world say
That she couldn’t get a lay.
It’s too late once you think.
I am a dead man
I am the air you breathe,
I am the water you swallow.
My dick is in your mouth
Always.