oh, my boy papipap
should i dance on your lap?
should i bribe the pale moon
to carve your heart out with a spoon?
i am paralyzed with indecisions
i am affronted with inspirations
to skin you alive and let you bleed
to suck you senseless and lick you dead
which would you rather be?
a poem more lovely than a tree?
or that discarded pristine pointed piece of stick
i would love to prolificly pick my teeth with
you're that marauding mealy mammoth of a maggot
feeding on my rotting crumbling sack of sanity
that one shiny glistening bit of cherry
essential to every man's sundae
my ardent yearning, my exquisite pining
my moron of a heart resigning
to this fate wth the moon aligning
taking me to ecstatic throes of passionate maligning
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