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To The Modern Black Standard (Free verse) by ALChemy

Rid the infinite redirect- ed slave lineage models for a 76 Coupe Deville, civil hero dealer of pleasure and painkillers. Lest ye be written in the book of cattle people who you prod with pimp cain or cocaine or staff of god. What's the difference? Still the man's bitches. And those hos and bitches twichin' ass or kitchen grease slave to the neo-slave, maids baby makers. You say it's 'bout money you lie. Eyes turn from bright skin. For fear? For hate? For lust? You rage- (for the caged bird sings to the white feline (songs of Johnny Appleseed)) -"Why motherfucker, why?" What's the difference? Still the man's bitches.

ALChemy 8-Nov-05/4:13 AM
No surprise you say "writing a witty comeback against an ass" seeing your head is stuck so far up yours that you don't know when to give up. Or is your idea to clog up my poem's comment section with your inane filibustering until I finally start deleting them and then say "Ha! See.
Don't bother. Unlike you I can move on from criticism.




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