Hop Scotch on whispering blood /I Got A Blunt For Brunch Harsh Much?

Hop Scotch on whispering blood

Spurious fireballs tango 


within obsidian limpid pinwheels


swirling like miniscule galaxies 


decompressing into the centriole 


of your moribund heliograph.

Torpid fenestella

threaded 
vibrational scratches 


cajole the palette of searing flesh,


copula whimpers leak 


from recherché fractures 


of ovules moccasins,

amethyst cyst sodomizes


plutonium inferential naiads,


7.62 millimeter 
vacuous plastic slicker coat,

Samhain balloons


tethered to descending moon
s

stilting Atlantis from
terra-cota Templar Knights,

eating wan sandwiches 
from the detritus


of a inverted Mt. Vesuvius,

certitude pauses within
the withering uprising hiccup


of a climaxing caesura,

as coup de grâce barracudas


buffalo with the ill-boding eyes


gnawing on cellulose fissures


of hieroglyphic exit wounds,

Los Pepes uses
trilateration crystallization
too hijack Coque de Mi Rey's call


silent reticle muerte éclat


auditory wattle pop

as the 
Search Bloc

shaves 
Polla Blanca's villus.

Copyright ©2019
WhisperingQuill.All Rights Reserved.
No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted
in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods,
without the prior written consent
of the author or publisher.
All my poetry is copyrighted and stored in author base. All material subject to Copyright Infringement laws
Section 512(c)(3) of the U.S. Copyright
Act, 17 U.S.C. S512(c)(3),WhisperingQuill.

----------------------------------------------------------------

I Got A Blunt For Brunch Harsh Much?

Wrapped amongst
splenetic thralldom
grasping coattails
of sapience loitering
interwreathe frondeur diffidence
into your stagnum ignis pulse,

now bleed, leak, and drain
all of your bile Harvey Dent-ism
shitty schisms two-face hybrid
sanctimonious asshole-ish bull dookie
putrid loose lipped stretched clit
slushing along gutterslug slip-n-slide
followed by a hazmat suit caravan,

I'm trapped in biohazard bubbles
quarantine from jump feeling
like John Merrick in carnival park
freak without the leash,

just sporting
a thorned wreath
unsheathe my irascibility
biting back bullets
tainted with strychnine
blitzkrieg thunder
razor blade calligraphy,

double time
smashing the back side
now whine as your sigh
slips and flies,

your contaminated
gravy train kernel
is dispersed into this
formaldehyde jar
truth hurts aren't I
the aww shucks worst,

jackass drawn hearse
now blink and twerk
for daddy before I feed
the bull to you
those lips look like
they can suck
start a Harley
my name ain't Charlie.

S.K.S. leaves you D.O.A.
no no this ain't S.O.A.
another stunted stuttered stunna
milk carton mystery
you little lost lucky charm
this warrior sleeps
riding the winds,

wayward malarkey
rooty tooty
fresh and fruity
poontang big booty Judy
lactating boobies,

you blemished harpy
why did you get this
Papi started
I'm a rogue star
I'll telepathically implode
you my dingleberry half spark.

Copyright ©2019
WhisperingQuill.All Rights Reserved.
No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted
in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods,
without the prior written consent
of the author or publisher.
All my poetry is copyrighted and stored in author base. All material subject to Copyright Infringement laws
Section 512(c)(3) of the U.S. Copyright
Act, 17 U.S.C. S512(c)(3),WhisperingQuill.