I hate cutsie fucking rhymes
And clever couplets
I can't stand your screen printed words
On your ass like a billboard
Hate isn't really the right word
I don't hate much. Maybe nothing.
'Cept a couple of things that remain nameless.
I don't like how you seem to just grin and bear me.
It reminds me too much how I am of myself
With myself
Confused, 48 ounces of coke dancing powdery jig inside my sinus
While the captain sails in the vast ocean of my belly.
Reminds me of my uncontrolled imitation, allen ginsburg, stover, traviss, clancy
I was born to be a ghost writer.
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