i used to be in the drum,in the cold up to my nosein my ears up to the crashof cold blooded sticks on snake skini used to be in the drugsin the bottom up to my waistpull out my pee to bake yellow cakebombed and disgracedi used to be a bumi miss that. Advertisements


chicago was cold, and i was brand new. off the boat from a banana republic the president of which, was an old school king bred to rule what does this mean? a change wasn’t coming my hands made fists, my fist’s knuckles scraped the inside of my pea-coat the wind was stiff– i mean it […]