Untitled
Shave it,
And crucify it, drive it home, as fast as you can,
Filled up with spunk and rancor,
As his arteries scream for him,
Made of strawberry jelly and sprinkles,
Pour it out, into colourful bowls at the nursery school,
Too many betrayals now, too many nicks in the surface,
Kill everyone you know and barbeque their remains,
Make a bonfire out of your grandmother,
Fillet the postman and sell little slices from an ice cream van,
Split it open, with everything you have got,
Fill it to the brim with hatred,
Tear it open, and see what fits inside,
Discharge a loathsome fire extinguisher into the wombhole of a wombat,
Set fire to your pubic hair, steal anything not nailed down,
Incendiary chemicals and pencil sharpeners, ram it all in,
It is all dead
and worthless,
anyway
