They say Moses used a staff to part the red sea, but to me, that's a metaphor for your soon to be lost virginity, the constant strain, looking through the first refrain, of this book held so dearly by some, written and bathed in blood, it sits waiting in hotel bedside drawers, reading pleasure, simplistic metaphors from times lost and forgotten chapters, now history is written by victory, and apparently that's scary, but I'm a competitive asshole, so maybe I'll write a little story, about my personal glory, after all love the sound of my own voice, even in the written word, I flex and test, muscle to flesh, burn a certain memory, into the vein, And I feel in my heart of hearts, I to could climb atop a soap box, flex a vocal cord and let lungs squawk, and yammer, stammer through a point deliver a metaphor through blood and placenta I'd give birth to a million book sales, and set ships sails, before they buy nails, it's not hard, to get the collective dick hard,
FUCK FUCK FUCK
Jonah lived in a whale that some say was a fish but I think it jumped the shark.
FUCK FUCK FUCK
Sweet whisper from forked tongue, sent us down the first rung, out of paradise and into hot desert sun, the birth of man and his faithful rib, How's that for women's lib?
No comments:
Post a Comment