Tuesday, May 11, 2004

the other 1/2

we are the stalkerazzi
we have photographs
as such I ditch
my garden herbs
my poetic meanderings, my markovian generated textual parryings
my intellectual élitism
my slick inclination towards obscurity. I

leash the enemy. I
'm white trash
probably, if I cared to think about it, tip
of ‘n iceberg. Ours is the language
of h-u-m-i-l-i-a-t-i-o-n. The only point being
all                                          pricks
                                        are points

we have photographs
actions speak louder than words
all that matters is fear
do I make myself clear?

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