i went to see your mental mum
just dropped in to say hi
she was whining at me constantly
i almost said goodbye
she said she's got no time anymore
got no time for this or that
i told her maybe i could help her out
and to grab her coat and hat
i took your mum to a crack house
and got her off fuckin guts
the more she took the better she looked
and was nowhere near as nuts
she got so high i tell no lie
she entered another dimension
the shadow people WERE scared of her
an amphetamine ascension
her fuckin shit was was so fuckin lit
like a thousand xmas trees
she tried to hide a smile so wide
said thanks and gave me a squeeze
she hit the pipe like a fucking pro
then she had a massive taste
did a line that would kill a horse
and then embraced the waste
your mum's a fuckin fiend dude
she can suck those uppers down
she's dented the fuckin meth supply
that would have fried a small country town
she was gordon fuckin ramsay cooked
she was off her fuckin face
i got my dealer to try and heal her
and now she's gone to outer space
About the Creator
Brenton F
It's just a token of my extreme - Frank Zappa
- - -
I have an eBook, a collection of my favourite pieces
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The Bird Nest
Downy tufts puff out, Warmth inside a house of hair, Drowsiness abounds. A/N: I sometimes imagine what it would be like to sleep in a bird nest, provided I can be bird-sized in the fantasy of course. I think it would be cosy! More longer stories to come! -TWW
By ThatWriterWoman4 days ago in Poets
Red Shelves
Death is a black hole. Think about it. A black hole is the corpse of a star, something once warm and bright, now come to the end of its life cycle. But some will argue that the cycle of life does not end with death. That death is merely another path we must walk once our bodies expire and our souls ascend. In that moment, when the fuel in the star’s chemical tank hits empty and the shiny matte coat explodes into supernova, the mass left behind – the corpse – becomes a black hole. We understand that, around such a vast cadaver, dimensions work a little differently in death to the way we’re used to in life. For example, light cannot escape the pull of a black hole when it hits the point of no return. That’s where it gets its colour. Space itself is contorted by a black hole. That’s where it gets its funny shape. Even time. Time slows right down the closer you get to it. The closer you get to a black hole. The closer you get to death.
By Matthew Curtis3 days ago in Humans
Comments (1)
Old ladies can be deceptive!