Two new poems. Both were written as continuous streams of consciousness. They are unedited and the punctuation and capitalization is taken from the original hand-written copy
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They are better when yelled, but I like them. We are going to have so much fun next year; our art is going to be what holds us down in the high-flying-hippie-haven.
Yes; your lust for aesthetic form and texture paired with my nible wit and will undoubtedly save us from those who think mime-inspired eyemake-up is okay. Because it's not okay. Ever.
Hippies shmippies, we'll be too busy doing crafts to notice the stench of B.O. and Indian food.
I'M BUSY DELETING THE INTERNET IT'S JUST TOO HOT IT MAKES YOUR MOM WET SHE KNOWS CANDY AND FLOWERS COULD GET HER PUSSY POWER JUST LIKE THAT RHYME YOU WROTE AND POSTED AS A NOTE JUST TO JERK A CHAIN CHEMICAL IMBALANCE SLICES OUT THE PAIN YOU CAN FUCK THE WORLD OUT YOUR BEDROOM DOOR BUT NOW THE HOUR IS NIGH THAT SHITE HAS GONE BY I STILL BATTLE BABY JESUS WITH A MIND OF RAZORS TASTE A LOT OF LITTLE CHEESES NOW MY LINES ARE GETTING SLOPPY THE WORDS LONG AND TOO CHOPPY WANT VAGINA SLOBBER? LIKE A MIDNIGHT ROBBER YOU MUST FEEL KINDA OUT OF PLACE TAKE YOUR DIGIT LAY IT ON "BACKSPACE"
WITH A ZIP AND A RIP, A CLAW THROUGH THE CLIP PUSSY OUT THE BAG ON A RAMPAGE MAYBE NOT ON STAGE BUT DEFINITELY UNCAGED BROTHER AGAINST BROTHER FRIEND AGAINST FRIEND MOTHER AGAINST MOTHER AND TREND AGAINST TREND HIGH BLOOD ALWAYS GETS NO LOVE THEY'LL SAY THAT'S THE RUB SOME GUY IN A SUIT WILL WANT TO GET YOUR LOOT TOUCH YOUR FRUIT WHILE YOU DANCE ON TABLES WRITING LOTS OF PAPERS LINES THAT DON'T RHYME THOUGH THEY'VE GOT THE TIME IF YOU TRIP AND TIP AND FALL, THOUGH YOU'RE SMALL JUST LAND IN A BALL
EVERYONE KNOWS THAT SNAKES ROLL ON HOME
elementary is so great we write poetry all day even though the ground is far and the sky is so high
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Hippies shmippies, we'll be too busy doing crafts to notice the stench of B.O. and Indian food.
I've already picked out lampshades.
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I'M BUSY DELETING THE INTERNET
IT'S JUST TOO HOT
IT MAKES YOUR MOM WET
SHE KNOWS CANDY AND FLOWERS
COULD GET HER PUSSY POWER
JUST LIKE THAT RHYME YOU WROTE
AND POSTED AS A NOTE
JUST TO JERK A CHAIN
CHEMICAL IMBALANCE
SLICES OUT THE PAIN
YOU CAN FUCK THE WORLD
OUT YOUR BEDROOM DOOR
BUT NOW THE HOUR IS NIGH
THAT SHITE HAS GONE BY
I STILL BATTLE BABY JESUS
WITH A MIND OF RAZORS
TASTE A LOT OF LITTLE CHEESES
NOW MY LINES ARE GETTING SLOPPY
THE WORDS LONG AND TOO CHOPPY
WANT VAGINA SLOBBER?
LIKE A MIDNIGHT ROBBER
YOU MUST FEEL KINDA OUT OF PLACE
TAKE YOUR DIGIT
LAY IT ON "BACKSPACE"
so there
welcome to 1st grade, class, and dont forget
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WITH A ZIP AND A RIP,
A CLAW THROUGH THE CLIP
PUSSY OUT THE BAG
ON A RAMPAGE
MAYBE NOT ON STAGE
BUT DEFINITELY UNCAGED
BROTHER AGAINST BROTHER
FRIEND AGAINST FRIEND
MOTHER AGAINST MOTHER
AND TREND AGAINST TREND
HIGH BLOOD
ALWAYS GETS
NO LOVE
THEY'LL SAY
THAT'S THE RUB
SOME GUY
IN A SUIT
WILL WANT TO GET YOUR LOOT
TOUCH YOUR FRUIT
WHILE YOU DANCE ON TABLES
WRITING LOTS OF PAPERS
LINES THAT DON'T RHYME
THOUGH THEY'VE GOT THE TIME
IF YOU TRIP AND TIP
AND FALL, THOUGH YOU'RE SMALL
JUST LAND IN A BALL
EVERYONE KNOWS THAT
SNAKES ROLL ON HOME
elementary is so great
we write poetry all day
even though the ground is far
and the sky is so high
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