To Be Continued… Maybe… Poem by Michael Walkerjohn

lines
on my
faces… all
over my faces
one for each trace
each, agonizing mess
of all things made… curse
until, I gets me a meal… curse
upon me, regaining my flex appeal
curse till my time' is served… curse till
God, and his Wife heard all of my word…
works till I curse still I curse what is plotted!
Getting in heads, is the name of the game
sticking in those heads is the scam of the
same… shaming what is maybe still in
the middle; between two temples?
Kiss it, rather; keep it simple stupid
would appear to be, what is wanted!
Don't it, Doughnuts or The Popes Nutts?
Frangelico or Play Dough? Guinness Stouts
or, corner touts… wat, is wots its bout Alfie!
So, shouts ousts outs every body headin south!
Hello! Helios! Hecka lotta Ghosts! Gassed Noses?
Fried Lotus, Hominy grits, wicked shytes, Black Knight
satellite? Black Sabbath? Black Jesus? Holy Schist! or Bat!
Shyte and Shinola…Frijoles and oles… golden showers whist!
Such the "Chubby Checkuer Twist, " however; "WE" insist…
Is the remainder what is right or left? Or is that centered?
Well lets US go centered for the remainder of humanity's
time on earth! We know those leftists and rightists are
all old and weathered women and men… maybe…
it does appear to be that many of the top rank
are "trans" ifin you understand my gist!
I mean, hair spray and dyed blondies?
All those declaring male wearing
their Nanci panties and those
declaring female IAM guessin
wearing Mitt Romney's thrown
away majik underwear! Banana
burches, of prancin misters, and
goin, down south spinsters! WTF!
Should it take more thousands of rolls
those thousands are not dead bodies piling
up, it is just a count; of the TP for the tactical
kinda, sorta, like that "protection of da complexion"
Phuuck! Phuuck! Phuuck! Phuuck! Phuuck! Phuuck!
Have a high hard 13 inches and a phat 6 inches of girth in!
And "WE" only playin that three hole course! Females!

To be continued… Maybe…