By Peter Carellini
My heart weeps for shady vermin
They who scurry in pre-war nooks not caulked
And under the eyes of social climbers, dwindle
How I loathe parameters of holy and hellish!
Mores is my kinship with wretched, sad refuse -
Addicts, hustlers, whores, and lazybones
Especially naive and ugly children
Whom one would never find past gates of galas
Or, worse, forgotten in the wake of storms!
Simply because it is not cute enough!
On my watch, we will not hunt hyenas
Forced from paradise for mangy misery.
I have sat on too wine mom sofas
While toasting with six figure journeymen
Siring perfect bastards and bitches -
Listening to jerkoffs judge the jaundiced
Or liberal voters’ kinder songs of shame.
Give to me goblins and ghosts in graveyards
Where the freakish come to cavort
Where we shriek and cry and dwell in filth
And, holding claws clenched so crassly,
Destroy some foul notions in the air
That damn the innocent fuck-ups spawned
By forebearers trained to crush them
As we spit on silk of purest white
From our loving, spooky shadows!
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