Thursday, April 12, 2007

Hymn # 666. 666. 1.

Still worm

still trouncing, long

and lacquered for shores

on tri pon-knees.

Hone words crispy soldiers

your bones make crunch go now.

and the loose burn cringe

your values make

make me grow a cudgel from my

fore-or-head.


So one word blistered holders

keep my fingers free

from bur-r-r-ns.

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