I might be in love with a man….fucking wonderful and aurally intoxicating.
The pyramid inveighed.
The hallucination sconce,
the pharaohs block arbitrary –
pull out the defeated parallel world.
Depression intoxicates
your laced orb.
Fidelity develops by exploded monopoly.
Untrammeled voidness,
slowly repeated missing,
you look like a turned ripped feature.
Antenna guts;
trashed by the iron pubic.
The evil me tore the glitch thereof.
A canopy erection,
a flambeau paralysis,
The voyage punctuation
composed of rheum beings.
Above you
tongues commit humility.
A flappy neurological citrus –
direct voice-over congregation
of poised disruptor whim,
Corn chasms
fuck through the goddess power.
We belong to the self-annoyed nausea.
Copyright © 2016 Charlie Zero the Poet
All rights Reserved.
No part of Antenna Guts Missing the Iron Pubic – may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means: electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without prior permission. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without…
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