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Train track tremblings on knuckle mountains.
Curled up fingers as hard as a coconuts shell,
And fiend prodding like a persistant sprog.
Pushing evils and nothingness through a dirty hole,
like a putrid scrap-pile infested with scorpions tails.
Bending the air and cracking the features,
of the yellow face. As dangerous as a
temperamental wasp, targetting and attacking in
insatiable hunger. You, persistant emblem of a
psychopaths soul. Drooling and sneering
at the coconut fist.

I took a shot at it, fast, like a tequila slammer.
©2006-2010 ~Traceability
:icontraceability:

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An exploration of anger and power

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June 19, 2006
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