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18 September 2020

stop

one drop     two     three drops     four     feed me to the scum suckers     pour flash in my pan     rifle me     stifle me     blow me from the rafters     fuck me     in the brain stem     but     deliver me from arseholes     enthralled in semantic developments     I have no need for enemies     when my friends     will bite my tongue     that union of close affiliates     and worn out excuses     lit my funeral pyre     with a bluebell match     and a kerosene drum

always     mostly     arseholes flee     from any thought     that might rattle their cages      but my pen is    mightier than my sword      and made these pages mine     before they had names     when these words were thoughts    and vague recollections      my head was mince      I’d had a proper seeing to      later I crept home     half arsed incognito      having formed the opinion    that all is either lost     or found      while groping in the dark

once satiated     my dying manhood     glistened in the lamplight    what’s that the symbol of?    I howled with laughter    I’m a dirty old mongrel      why don’t I stop       cock stop     stop cock    why don’t you     just stop     stop     stop it     fasten the impulse     reject the necessary      stop     stop where sign says red     red means stop          stop means stop

hear the Creature EP

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