the walls are red, the walls are red

the worst of boiled angel i told you not to read dads books theyll turn you into a deviant just like him fear and loathing for  my fanny think break even further drop bass navigaing  craters of his own carpet anhilation thought distortion to the clarity of noise chaos refined and carved with sculpters poise acid rabbit murder holes the corpses burn like candles on a birthday cake gouged by greedy hands bleeding like steaks a collision of nightmares vividly realized a chorus where every note is a mistake in sulphur flames that speak in rhymes but not necessarily you stand in a line of strangers but yr pretty sure if not instictively if yr not mistaken like a punishment of infernal cantos that man of baptist tension is dario argento nervously grinding his teeth in apprehension as he waits in line only two men ahead and you wonder all of a sudden why are these curtains red the ceilings are red the floors are red the nurse comes in a black unform with a bowl of water dripping red to wash yr sins salt yr wounds and tear open yr heart like fresh bread she corrodes before she touches you you watch as she turns unnaturally her head her face decays melts like chocolate lead a moment later or perhaps a day a pack of flies descends like sound savage echos reverberating red sounds that eat flesh away like the grip of foul nature and you watch in dismay a corpse picked clean in minutes to stand naked boned and sway as you stand in a horrified stare cant pull yr ears away the new music of insect hum bombbomboombthe dot         upstairs savage micro bhagra of slave bombay lead pipes           decadence fuck anything that plays revelry as a human right sabotage the 1% everyday salome will dance for yr head think further the walls are red the walls are red Written March 5th, 2002 © on Mar 05 2002 07:31 AM PST   18 • 0 • 10