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The Bastards Are Talking

Again

By Anthony DahmPublished 3 years ago 1 min read
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Smoking on something deadly

Choking on laughter

Cracking jokes about something touchy

Trying to touch the sun

Reaching for the surface & some.

Touching up on love

Loving something lethal.

Eating ether with some nicotine and beer

Fearing nothing other than themselves

“But we’ll never tell ‘cause that’s pussyshit” said the poets.

Glowing as bright as the ember on the end of a cancer stick

Lit with the infamous lighter of the demon hoarding devil sellouts & an empty A in the middle.

Spitting riddles like scripture.

Doing their best to describe the perfect picture

Of hell

& heaven

& love

& life

& death

& society

& bullshit but never sobriety.

With crippling depression & anxiety

We fed the fire of our oppressors hoping the flames would catch us all

Instead we got caught slipping

& the singeing of our hairless testicles meant that it's time to BECOME the flames & burn those motherfuckers.

surreal poetry
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