it's not for fun
some god turns the wheel
children christ's jism
consequences consequential
I make birds' feet in the ozone
while daylight is saved and somewhere
bent over his nonchalant pig
a farmer's son rejoices
offspring, your dream is blubber
fried in lard
pickled in brine
cloaked in daggers
quit squirming
the pillow says no
Tanec Rayl
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/beatboxing-appreciated/
