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Its the same old static & flaccid striptease. (Free verse) by SupremeDreamer

Displaced, devoid of desire I take in morning, reminded of whores who tease by lifting their skirts. An urge to write is followed with the urge to avoid writing utensils, the front door, and opening my encrusted eye lids. Aside from things mundane, thirst and nicotine cravings motivate me if only for a short while... I've resigned myself to observing things, absolutely stupid things really. Human activity apparently happens to be 80% spastic idiocy; the remaining 20% of activity includes eating, pissing, shitting and attempting to fuck anything with a camels toe. Reefer offers me the ability not to notice, since the pointless urge to reveal to others their retardation is best left alone; most get defensive anyway, or offended which leaves me wanting to smash their faces into a work of gothic obsession. Switched into neutral, I let the night creep and eventually engulf everything; a bored slut slowly letting her skirt float back down. Life to me is a perpetual striptease- the excitement long dead, flesh and beauty faded into subtlety.

SupremeDreamer 27-Apr-04/2:12 PM
oblivion becomes me is now cut and buried in my boneyard of failed verse.

As for misogynism, where exactly in the poem do I attack women in general? its just my way of comparing teasing strippers to the rise & setting of the sun- its the sort of thing that pops up in my mind.. I didn't intend to attack women in general at all. Plus the poem is me comparing life to a striptease.. I don't think theres any way to avoid being offensive twards women in this piece, but if you have some amazing way to make everyone happy, please show me.. but frankly, thats impossible- its also not a goal listed in my agendum.

As for the pot? I don't care about the response that gets me.. maybe I should mention valium or extra strength xanax? cmon now.




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