pops

poetry sso precise that it’s nice on rice

sooooo many days where violence praises ourw ays we
raze
this praize in the prariessssw ays
who says
the spread
the time to walk along the road sign
desizng in time
—-

when a poet sits to write
he has an appetite petite tit not too uptight
like my tie wanna die from fish stir fries and fry
cry why high and uplifted
my cryo-vaccinations are fitted
for the heavy
levy witted
she pitted you up against another sucked cunt and dry your eye
to the sky she still on that jive
you lit another niggerette calling her that only made
her want you more. you bade
she did, niggle.

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