It Reeks Of
Backdoor sound byte diarrhea hurls
Sticky tongue bowel overflow
Little green froggies say the Apollo man from Mars
ain’t gonna fighter plane land
in a nuclear day or so
Sphincter hole toilet bowl saliva swirls
got an oven baked brownie glow
Little kyrptonite toadies say the Venus-born superwoman
wanna lead Pilate the flyby band,
be a peace hawk sis bro’
Such lyrical lying done on a mythical scale ...
it reeks of,
you don’t wanna know
Lying kings and queens —
Roaring eagles of the blue sky
are on a soaring, white cloud predator prowl
Flying below the radar;
dropping constipated truth bombs,
which nay palm skin burn
with strategic flush, royal greed accuracy
Lying low bow silo, with uranium stealth arrows,
in the waste land dead zone
Noxious fear vapors on a vulture mushroom blow
Fiery serpent wing plume shadows
give more territory to own
Much lying done on a global kill scale ...
it reeks of death,
and you don’t wanna know that smell
Extinction level pyre inhale
W2 Three trust me,
you don’t ever wanna nostril feel
that rotting, bone ash exhale
Copyright © Freddie Robinson Jr. | Year Posted 2018
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