Hey guys, here's the next installment to the series featuring god and my epic ass getting down on some crazy poetry. Did somebody say "Waiting for Godot?"
text:
god: tunic
timeless
seasons
festering in slurry,
merry
brigands cheering
the plight of
orphans.
call
me
servile;
I am
a
light pole on the
outskirts!
No comments:
Post a Comment