Poetry Archives Bio
September 1, 2013
3:45 PM
Palæmon

Compiled from text messages sent to Derek Choy in an inebriated state.

Pastoral pastiche: Kill the klown! Pow the cow! Clutch the clutch! Catch the match! The camera turn a blind eye to the pie in the sky! Towers topple! I enjoy the sound of the 'bulance doppler! I pop the cerise noire of Mary Poppins. I pop Mr. Pip's hymen, placenta splashing everywhere! Bartender (tender tender! Nicht legal. Te to ta tee, te to ta tow, toe morose bellicose semicolons cosinus sinuous suck my Barack hijab al Minaj et le maharaja. Tellement tell the enemy (enema: At this point I don't what you pick up the teleporn (teleport 69. Username? Telemakos. Don't asks why. Just catechise the eye as you are wont to do. Unlimited sext messaging? There's a benefit to that. I will send deck messages to you crane and get back Beck sausages. Fair trade? Malady of nitrate? Tirade? Zut alors! Zippo zoo zoophilia. Neon fillet (philein. Nein! Talc! Ablate the almanac! I wash my face of th8s! I catch meine Hunde in their Honda morgues. Race race race 10,000,000,000,000 mph to the 囯. Matriculated punishment for publishment when I was a teenager looking for a little danger. Snakes! Zhong when? Don't know wot to do with the colonies. You surround me with the grate vaginal wall. Fuck the music. Wanda waves a wand. Why? Warum? (Vroom vroom! Was ist das? Was ist ass = grass. I'm not going to remember this yesterday. Even the table is hot from the sun. I'm not going to complain says the fat woman. My neck is going to stay cool. Roger, Rogers. Roggg balamanda! (Calamander is a type of wood. So, Jason (our friend) is director of sales and markkkering. I'm on Joseph Montana why isn't this on Praxebook? Palaver palatable palliative o o no nnon ma ta to gue po ro e nnon i. Padua! Padua! Padua! Get thee to a nunnery! Amm bam (20% of batt. Amm bam (I am Telamon / bon bon. You like that? Try rye! Pin gin on Derek. Say, Faye, is the vodka frusch?! This cauomer is unreachable. What a douche! Bill stick rock in arm (sound the alarm! I don't if we're getting old or what the reason behind it is. You're a Sagittarius, right? Fuck shitcock th midel crass. You, Mr. Bok (Choy understand nothing. Lymph limbic Bic cheap insurance, though. So they just finished their new den celebrated their first anniversary going I go back to uni. –Still okay, Hun? –Doing gut.