Cough up your money. Bi-curious husbands with seven-year itches. A nip and a tuck and you'll have me in stitches. I can't feel a thing, means the anesthesia
Cold metal, hard lead. Kneeling to the cock of a rifle you're fed. My big bluff baby, my middle finger-cross. My nixed. My 86'ed. My late great loss.
It's funny how chemo wears you down. Or how we put the lame dog down. put the lame dog down. it's funny when it's taken out to the street and shot. it
Spread the scent, mark the territory. (You're an animal) Kill/Feed Roam Hunt/Gather Eat/Sleep Mate/Defend Make your mark, piss your life away (You're
The dull thud of packing meat. It's my bare fist beating meat. I'm a meat eater and meat is me. I'm a meat eater bearing recoiled red teeth. With veneer
26 years in an aborting world. Mother Earth in labor. Cesarean life rips limb after limb after limb. No one knows the fucking woes of the arthropod.
You're only free when you're rabid. You're only rabid when you're free. Neither male gods nor phallic cities will ever humanize the survival instinct
What do you have to be angry about? I rack your brain stem for head trauma. Spina bifida baby's first prosthetic steps. Live! via (we are made for TV
We freebased the world like a challenger explosion. And lit up the sky so the world could see. That the sleeping giant sky swats it's fly. That the farmer
We greased our pockets with oil. Then lined those pockets with black crosses of ash. No ad space left on our foreheads. Only barcodes and ink rash. Burn
