we planted puppies in the dirt
now those old dogs lean to god
…if god is the sun.

their fractal faces will follow its path,
lost direction
there’s problems to come.

…not object to the way the clouds cloak
mini retarted kings
palest face, like a moth wing.

a moth thats feeding on policy
streamlined through dictation
of male offspring.

Ba’al the burnt offering!

Give me some butter to smear on this ghost!

milk ganesh… parasites look for a host.

Give me weed!
Give me the ginger!!

the wooden stage under the cross is for sinners!

If you feel lost
it’s the splinter
from climbing
from losing your grip and from sliding.

the splinter is larger than you.

(this is the most abstract piece I could write at this time about how power is kept in the family… in the bloodline. cities ruled by retarted children, products of incest… fuck obama. he’s lying.) fuck every candidate for that matter.

…except Ron Paul.