Sunday, May 23, 2010

A Nation's dry skin

Aquatic eyesores on
My fourth night on the ship.
If I could, I'd tear a block
Out of my fourth dimension.

Look at us, we are shell-
Shocked American servants.
Despite our rebel's skin
And rebel's heart, we are
Just a fleck of a Nation's
Dry skin, dandruff.

Score a goal for me,
Sick soccer slave,
So maybe I'll look at
You and call off the

There is no Hell,
No Heaven.
They are under construction.
The workers always
Whistle when our girlfriends
Walk by, even when they
Don't wear makeup.
May I man the crane?

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