i don't write, i hoogabaloo by bleuHaya, literature
Literature
i don't write, i hoogabaloo
i don't know what anything is and everything is hoogabaloo
nonsensical glibberglosh of sloshing tongues in slippery mouths
and when you think about it too hard you start to salivate
itch to taste meaning but meaning is sour and salty and you find your
teeth gnashing glash glash on metal
eating bare utensils
i can't tell you what happened by bleuHaya, literature
Literature
i can't tell you what happened
i can't tell you what happened
but something did happen and it burst like a pomegranate
oozing purple juices all over my blistering hands
across my thumb a swirl of vicious acetic acid
acid acid
ssssssssssssssssssssss
id
i don't know but it burped all over like a broken baboon
juicy lava tropical larva
and im standing here and blue purple sticky stick on my bare toes
gooping bloop blopping hate hate off of my innocent sweet fingers
i can't tell you what happened but yeah
(i like to kill)
i don't write, i hoogabaloo by bleuHaya, literature
Literature
i don't write, i hoogabaloo
i don't know what anything is and everything is hoogabaloo
nonsensical glibberglosh of sloshing tongues in slippery mouths
and when you think about it too hard you start to salivate
itch to taste meaning but meaning is sour and salty and you find your
teeth gnashing glash glash on metal
eating bare utensils
i can't tell you what happened by bleuHaya, literature
Literature
i can't tell you what happened
i can't tell you what happened
but something did happen and it burst like a pomegranate
oozing purple juices all over my blistering hands
across my thumb a swirl of vicious acetic acid
acid acid
ssssssssssssssssssssss
id
i don't know but it burped all over like a broken baboon
juicy lava tropical larva
and im standing here and blue purple sticky stick on my bare toes
gooping bloop blopping hate hate off of my innocent sweet fingers
i can't tell you what happened but yeah
(i like to kill)
Dropping colors in the autumnal weep,
trees fast for fall.
Ambers and canary-camouflage
peel from twig scars
descending silently atop browning blades.
I rake,
fascinated in the layering dead,
in front
of a pontificating pine wondering why
all its neighbors are naked.
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