BP :: PJ26

#This is some bad poetry from a journal that has a pink bandana cover. It starts with a
#newspapaer clipping dated June 2, 198

“I get it” the bailaff crys drawing his gun “reality is a pun?” he whipmers from the obvious pain of forty hypodermic needles being inserted into his ass by a small fish eyed womyn named Yvylyn. However, her life is not save, why? – because the bailaff’s brother Babar has had it up to his tusks and is ready for a change – but blook is thicker than water so he settles for lunch with Mary rather then dinner with the reaper. Mary however has aids and not even Rock Star cover of Acidic Classics can save her condomned soul. The God-machine has spoken and the slime rises but rust never sleeps it simply dreams. Where as Yvylyn polots the simple slaughter of the crack dealing caidea gigiloo who has been surgically impregnated by Dr. SafeWay (Ben’s brother), Marys plygamous husband, whose belief in Sushi medicine has lead to more then one medical impossibility.

The Sun slowly rises
The Dreams slowly pass
With head lowered
She remembers the sliding
The manipulations,
of the shadows called
unconsciousness
Adn the noons suns
nicely warms her
neck feathers.