Tuesday, April 27, 2010

Dusted Snow Angels

A dusted don/ a dusted angel
with some rusted arms
that I've been cutting on
from dusk to dawn like nothing's wrong.
Puffing palms in this cold world's
snow swirl--
hoes hurl after the globe's pearl
made their toes curl...
Impregnate them with hurt
so they revert to the dirt.
Why's pleasure so painful?
Lost in this desert of dessert--
where beauty drives you berserk
under the sky's wristwatch.
Shit, wish I could split
its lip-lock with Hitchcock.

Coolly calculated cutey
sipping a Diet Pepsi.
Heart palpitated cruelty,
down n' out, she side-stepped me.
Why she left me? I don't know,
maybe 'cause I liked coke instead...
Stayed smoking cess while stroking stress
with a broken head.
Dead already, somebody bury me
n' get it over with.
Said she was ready so I popped
her cherry tree with a loaded clip,
where the posh dwell. She was
more dusted than the top shelf,
but I delved into that inverted
volcano to clog Hell.
Couldn't stop it, she dropped spells--
look what the witch doc did.
Nothing but a power hungry whore,
craving the cockpit.

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