scream

scream

God is an Idea given to man in a story that we shape! 
Shouts the sawtoothed man with his slack cock gyrating in hands 
A myriad of trumped up scars that is me! 
A sore sight I am to fully behold!
An engorged politician who grates as he gyrates 
His sloppy walnut manhood in the westward wind.
Oh how He orates this cosmic world of seem 
A screened of scree a scream of need that bleeds 
In an alcoholic neurotic possibly psychotic nihilistic scream
Me: Pah! the true detective who knows the truth and 
Makes a fuck up between the rocks he snorts down lies 
Like a pig in a tough or a pack of hounds devouring vomit
Oh, but he sees! Oh Christ does he see! 
He spies Shiva his snake writhing proud between the skulls 
that now and then wrestle in between this surety of seem. 
Where the procrastinator shouts! I ‘m never wrong , but then sometimes I am,
If I am caught out that is, which is not that often and 
Depending on the booze and who is who and who is new, 
But this is not real this is show and you know that the end is safe
But that all depends upon the dirt and the skirt of this raw shore 
That is my mind a fine road that walks and talks but never fucks. 
Personally I blame the Tories and I always will! I’ll be like a Kirk
About the death of my boy about them!
Don’t trust them! don’t believe them! 
And read my son read read read read! And then believe! 
But they then remind me of my own hatred of myself and 
My hypocrisy at hating hypocrites that seethes at the fringes 
Like pubic hair that stands mottled on the hills like claws and nails 
In yellow pails that then crunch and crack underfoot like frosted broken daffodils!
This is me this is who I am a bland voiced nobody: a forgotten refrain. 
A lamenting gorgeous fuck whose words cause a cum and a cum again
How did it go? Oh like that? Like what? Oh let’s play that again? 
Lets have a joke a mocking poke and have a toke and forget the smoke 
That bursts from my lugged lungs in spirals to perform dances on the breeze 
This is me that fat fuck Freddie whose body is spilling by the diabetic thrill 
And can’t make is tongue do the real work his body wants it to. 
This is the man who longs for night who hates a fright but stills writes a fright badly enough to keep the masses entertained . 

So are you ? are you entertained as I decapitate and eviscerate myself? 
do you like what you see? Do you believe or then preconceive? 
This is the man who longs for energy and solace and the capacity to feel an orgasm Oh just once! 
This is the daddy part of the the man who slips and skips in a cartoon ship that then slips: 
See me fall and see my masculinity fall far away from me,
Just like daddy pig with a bitter pill a chip or bag of chips in his hands
But here in the nano plastic culture on the petrie dish of tripe 
Where our supply falters over our demanding screams 
I bathe myself clean in dreams in a world of seem
Here I am! a fucking God! with an engorged python
Thrusting
Whose skin is like soft scales that wrap and rap about your thigh
Here I am! a God or a god of a sought. 
This plump weedy man with no morals and not a future to think of 
Can I become an icon of this stage and why not? 
Because my words work like the rod of rod of Aesculapius, 
That snake-entwined staff, remains a symbol of medicine today.
So I call on him the snake Mucalinda the being the blessing the same 
I shout it out I write and writhe about calling screaming Mucalinda 
Mucalinda the protection the poison pen that heals 
Mucalinda the blessing of a thousand thrills of penetration quills 
Mucalinda for the lost and the hopeless the spite like hot spume flows 
Mucalinda I ache in the final throws of this ranting tirade. 
And as I Cronos look down: I Lucifer look up and I penetrate 
This permanent rain filled forever sky and with a T.V smack filled grin 
I shout with defiance at the ghost I am I am I am
ME!
(c) adh2014