Monday, 2 November 2015

Carcass bomb

Guts spilling outside leather carcasses
Well I wonder what they would say
If I showed them the wounds
Rolled cigarettes
Royal living
And a role-play
An accountant doesn’t even imply wealth
Your highness

Baby sitting on Saturday night
Eggs need hatching
I am so nocturnal 
I am so proud
Lurking in those bushes 
A greedy devil and a broken heart
Breaking news

Prey on insects 
With bare hands tear one limb off after another
Karma galore
Twin-shared mortgages
Inside old wombs detach antennas 
For no hard feelings
Ten-minute intervals of torture
Louder than bombs

The Nature of Reality
Is the name of one of the philosophy subjects
That I took and hated
Why must philosophers insist on making philosophy
So goddamn pretentious
You know who are
Genius alert
I’m talking about you, you kant