What kind of emergency? Boobs full of milk and long fat hard on's. I can feel you on top sliding high up and down, before you, I diced up and murdered. Getting caught, its never enough to get my thrills. Me here at last on the ground, you in mid-air?
In the end, like mission creep, it reveals its lack. I stared at the white pills blankly for a long while, I even took a picture of them, before finally, definitely throwing them away. Words that shock, eating my fill, your face is like paste, Your black bony asses is like glass, I see through. Poems want what we all want: Watch me fuck it. For an emergency, I told myself. But how does this connect to poetry? So much poetry resides here, too, in subversion, and sex, and surrender. I can feel you on top sliding high up and down, before you, I diced up and murdered. In the end, even John Lennon wailed: Snorting coke your glazed eyes, smoking weed, your fast on my trip, power moves. What kind of emergency? Marcus quotes Pete Townsend in his intro: Getting caught, its never enough to get my thrills. Me here at last on the ground, you in mid-air? Crisco butter, coconut oil with some of the colonel's fried chicken, Moist red lips, that I close with a smack. The future is bleak as it crawls slowly past, so fast that you missed your last show. One way to fuck the system, in a song or in a poem, is to fuck with its vital language. Yeats loved Blake and was deeply interested in mysticism and the occult. There are some places you can only go alone. At the reading, we nod our heads, we low hum, we shout, amen! In the poem Al Green is alone in a studio, singing Tired of Being Alone, looking up because up, I figured, was his idea of heaven. We want to hear music live because we want to hear it together. As for knowledge of the measurable: Wild both of us knew that nothings free, neither one of us like some of the rest none were spared. Knowledge of the hidden: We lost him to it, we say when someone is consumed by his art, or the erasure or excess or addiction that accompanies the art.
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Sex Drugs and Rock n Roll lyrics
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