Hail, poetry

Standard

If I die before I write, think only this of me: I’d rather fucking snuff it now than live to one-oh-three.

If I write before I die may all my stuff be good; with character and twists and spatter, spit and cum and blood.

If I die before I die and end up motionless, just give me bastards,
cunts and twats and I’ll not be distressed.

But if words die before I do then watch as I unwrite. All ugly words
breed poetry, such beauty in their shite.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s