Once upon a time, in the land of Bethlehem, on some plains somewhere, a dude bought a lamb coat, said will you eat me, when can you feed me, greedy, I couldn’t agree more, its too much, the dream I'm asking, the realities I'm living, its sort of cute, what echoes back, a silence, the lamb is dead they called out, lets drink his blood, how much can we shake from the tree, fall to the abyss to drink your piss, the aroma, sweet, scented, lime, fruit pie, for the fortieth time this night, he cried a river of tears, fed us for thirty days, its okay, not bad, not Vlad, wouldn’t you be glad, if he did your homework for you, ask me if I’ve been to school, been introduced to the family, you wouldn’t know it, have you seen him, probably not, he’s a chubby lad, not much to look at, and he died there, in that place, wasn’t his place to call out, but if you called out hierarchy you’d be surprised, the beast that lives inside, in all of us, that river of blood, let’s drink all of it up, maybe consider pissing in it, just to see what calls back, the echo, unguarded fellow, let you have your turn, wait for the next eternity, he called me, said what stands guard, will it ask you a riddle, how many men will I slay this time, reality really does echo back, which is why we don’t ask those questions, but you’re thirty now, passed the test, let us know if you’re in yet, what called back, good dreams and life, would I do it thirty thousand times, and reality would echo out, catch me next time, good luck, golden boy, I wonder how far you can go, next time I’ll show, but he had to run away to Afghanistan, or Sudan, saw some directions the other day, maybe, when will they catch me, can I make it to thirty forty, I doubt it, I bet you’ll get caught for forty cents, the game doesn’t begin around me, some are dreaming for real, from East to West, the people are being fed, from the crowd, life shouted out, I’m just glad I’m not out, couldn’t quite make it out, but its alright, I’ll get them next eternity, for the life, he would have showered me, maybe he has chores to do, then what would I do, take the first out, on your left, shout, I love brunettes, but a third thing echoed out, and I think this guy was really in love, he’s alright, it hasn’t bit him in the back yet, but its okay, he’s a little zen, he’ll be okay, he’s a little out of touch, not sure what will echo back, when we tell him to shout, I think the poet died, he’s alive, still kicking, not sure if he’s famous yet, will he start a tribe, start having to sell shit, to make a living, its too cheap, couldn’t get enough, the well has run dry, he was a little poor this time, anyways, he had to take a shower.

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