smorgasbord of poetry, photos, political hairballs...MOTEs "More energy, grit and real life in them than 96.8% of the bullshit that comes into the Corpse."
Saturday, November 25, 2017
slum lord absconds sweet sadistry
the slum lord rolls in on his slug borne minivan,
the trail of money sloppery slippy
over squirrels working to gather minimum wage Nuts
for slum lord's denture pie
of orphan guts held together with his white male jerk collection
of Playboys from an era of segregation of which
his pride did flourish,
rancid on the sills of peeped tenants,
over floor joists rotting from his terminal sap of infamy
that the City
collects in their bucket of phone calls wrapped in favors
only slick yuppies tolerate, as per
a club of landowning derelicts too greedy to breathe
without poisoning the entire region
for their pleasure and sadist wont
jingling keys
locks reject out of sheer habit, like a crow barfing up a dead vulture's
eyes that saw too many seeds
working in the pit
unable to hear anything but the bounce of a check off the cosmos
his mother warmed in the oven
and said get in little come, your new heat is here
new crap hearted worm slum lord give thanks
only a barn will splinter less gracefully teetering over the notes
a rancid man leases to fellow humans,
pretending relationships are his forte as he disappears,
meat on a plate for cops of Time
No comments:
Post a Comment