You flying shits

all of you, you fucked up Stockholm syndrome sycophants,

you bitching tramps, you mendicants, you terrible twats,

have some fun, you frowning trolls, you spittle-flecked fuckers,

stop making my world tiny and parametered by your little-brained and little-thought, nasty jibing, mean-spirited carping,

stop your headache, stop your breathing (because it's my air you're wasting), and have some joy.

And only then can you have a part in my shining landscape,

and until then, live in the hell of your own making,

and stop your shit-smelling invasion.

Comments

  1. but not you, I imagine

    ReplyDelete
  2. Anonymous11:56 pm

    thanks.


    I like the authorization/warning feature just there, btw. "Say what you wnat to say, I'm watching you". If you are, then you know that I have a new book to read and an aquatic fox to feed.

    Laters -

    ReplyDelete
  3. a bit strong this particular piece I have written, obviously not feeling too enamoured with the state of the nation right now. Sorry.

    ReplyDelete

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