my words are more….

Its   been   over   2  months 

since   we   started   getting   dirty.

Since   I   got   all   wet   and   oily,

begging   you   for  a response-(in X-

cessive volumes).  My 

(adoring) lips, are 

needy.  And I’m  (just) a   

waning child, consumed  

by heat-stroke, and…. 

suggestive  connotations.

 

I KNOW MY RIGHTS

046“it is my right; my pre-pubescant-cowboys right ; from the farthest side of the United States, to the other side of the world, I will never give up my right to…SMOKE…(until manhood is thrust, by way of a pick up truck-fast upon me)…Until each cell in my immature body (starting with-occasionally useful-I’m told; organs); foremost my lungs; my blood, my bones and skin are corrupted in dripping, black, resinous tar-malignant, and spreading like wildfire-I insist on my right-my-god-given-right, to smoke…smoke, (and inhale)-I’ll smoke honestly-openly-I will be exercising (frequently) to: my last painful breath…my (rather unexceptional), and masculine-traditional; my rednecked, family, classical,…right…to…SMOKE”.