for over 220 poems
i have been nice
you must admit
and have not told you
to blow it out your enchilada-hole
but at a certain point a person
has to fight back
tears
and and
fucking spit blood
and implement apparatus
for a change
you know it is coming
in the current dynamic
i know not what
but they shall be the terrors of the earth
because you know one square
of toilet paper
would be enough to wipe
that rictus tight off your ass-
face
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