There’s a clear distinction,

Between the poems I make,

When I’m drunk, sober, or baked,

But maybe nobody wants to hear about that,

Lately its been body parts, cum, and breasts,

There are women here I know,

Little boys, little girls,

Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

I sort of see it, your reflection in these poems,

I know, ingrained in reality, whatever,

When are we getting to the fucking?

Is what I want to know, right?

Just kidding, I want to talk about religion,

And it really blew up, Mount Vesuvius,

Should never trust a guy and his boat,

Just meat, after he’s done with you,

You’ll feed the fish, I know, I wouldn’t do that to you,

Drink fish piss, like a broken record,

I know, I need new rhymes,

This one’s especially bad, what is it, time, lime, mine,

Yes, please, its like stand-up comedy now,

Hey, you hear the one about the Jewish dude and the paraplegic?

The dude healed his legs, asked how did you do it?

The abyss, magic, and its sort of like this poem,

Its art, it’s the universe, the truth, indelible.