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6x6x6 – Poetry of Our Used Holes

May 3, 2010

Any way you look at
the outcome, to say or
do, is likely to be
a constant threat blip.  The
future, hanging out of
its sheath and determined,

its gloss, probably more
than just a passion for
breeding.  We are at work
on world domination,
there is a high school girl
who dies of starvation.

I got a donkey in
panties, that’s exotic.
I form as the tail end
of the union body
on stage.  I have the tool
that gives rise to the girl’s

face immediately,
just type in a glow at
the present rules and shoot
down happily.  Her heart
beat cops, the system, the
authority outside

herself, flicking her tight
little splash.  Now he licks
her ass, the occult to
raves, to riots, to a
poetry of our
used holes, like the world is

starving for not being
able to come!  South of
the male meet the great sea
of cirrus methane, great
evils that a flying
fuck shit fertilizes.

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