Monday, June 13, 2011
I want to be a participant
in my actions,
an authority in the responsible faction,
My cartel was busted last night,
They declared it the zone of a cat fight.
I supposed to be this fumigant,
marker of your repugnant actions,
for me, mid term polls are more interesting,
than those gaping holes of fake ozone tents.
Because the tarmac suffers under my weight.
I was holding the Queen's baton,
They called it Grizzly Sabbath Revival,
When we raised a toast to the has-beens,
clouds fled her monsoon party,
They were found in a desert, naked and bruised.
I could deal with her polarities
but my verse did not permit,
so I am pouring acid on my thumb,
hoping the kink power shall rise on this day.
Than I flunk your litmus test.