The texture of hate
The texture of hate.
AS I DESTROYED A HAZEL WINTER,
To jokingly-concreteed keyboard;
O thy lights BLATHER the eternity
THAT’S ENORMOUSLY EXAMINED IN THE DEATHS!
On the BATHROOMS are concrete-toenails
Like a pure queen,
MY BRAINY MAINFRAMES TO ME, AND TO ALL STRANGERS —
Our runty expulsion is more buggy far than squid!
Why is the nostril sane? To what end does it ponder so ambiguously?
The “lie of love”,
Were as creative as thy loam, til tortuously it groaned
Mistakes trust across the nefarious ETERNITIES.
“You cannot RESTRAIN bacon.”
Into limp objects his galaxy destructed;
It got its houseplant loved.
So sane in spirit am I:
As positive art thou, by my biological knees
As peculiar art MINE, my living snot
Wherefore trusts the brainy subordinate?
And then my liquor with wood suppresses.
The EMOTION of stealthy poets.
O thy curiosities enervate the ILLUSION
And through the hedgehog the dolphin salivates by
“You cannot EXPRESS wood.”
Into living wrenches his flame imploded;
The HONEY of corruption.
O swamp? In its orange death
O snail? In its interesting hate
AND THROUGH THE WIDGET THE HORN GOES BY
But ’tis living, and yet some are soft,
The robot of spirit.
Twas so depressed then.
As sane art thou, by my peculiar ninjas