It's coming soon, right? Lord knows I've earned it,
back bent like a scythe, a labourer in my father's field.
Not one goat has bled for me, although I've fed them
pearls the swine wouldn't touch, each day of every year
that my brothers stumbled between orgies.
They wake hungover in the sty one day, and run
back to the rich daddy in the story who waits
on the road in the corner of my eye, with that coloured
coat and pimp ring and the cow I fattened myself.
And I still feed the pigs
but maybe this week is my turn. I'm in my Sunday best,
mingling with red-wine-lipped prodigals;
maybe today's embrace will be for me -
the son who never had to come home.
















Devious Comments
Comments
Nice!
--
You don't know me.
So don't act like you do.
Don't ask me either,
'Cause I too don't have a clue.
... Evelyn ...
--
Hiss, shout, kick my teeth in, so what? I shall still tell you that you are half-wits. In three months my friends and I will be selling you our pictures for a few francs
- Manifeste cannibale dada
--
You don't know me.
So don't act like you do.
Don't ask me either,
'Cause I too don't have a clue.
... Evelyn ...
--
Do I look like a fuckin' people person?
I'll give you more feeback later today
Awesome,
-S
--
Quicksand's got no sense of humor. I'm still laughing like hell.
--
Razors pain you; Rivers are damp; Acids stain you; And drugs cause cramp. Guns aren't lawful; Nooses give; Gas smells awful; You might as well live."
-Dorothy Parker
...
--
<salshep> but then I have a thing for wood
that my brothers stumbled between orgies."
Oh man, that's great.
--
"For I know why Jesus wept,
Motherfucker- "
Traduttore Traditore
--
Hiss, shout, kick my teeth in, so what? I shall still tell you that you are half-wits. In three months my friends and I will be selling you our pictures for a few francs
- Manifeste cannibale dada
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