Parades for cripples ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ It sure would be nice too pretend but who isn't fooling Thom I must say I wonder if all the wheel chairs and all of those shit bags could use some plums ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Stains in underwear dry after a while too much like Special education For helmeted kids in demonstration Christ, give the retarded cripples some affirmation then plums ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ From the rear end it’s all the same The smell of shit was never too blame the parades for cripples was no silly game That any poet could hack into a prune juice for the poetically lame, So hear' a plum, Thom. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ I know I’m slow compaired to your chair A Something about mary with cum in my hair We can just pray poor Thom's shit bag don't tear That's why a brought some plums for your legs and when you get bored of dragging your ass ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Things will pass with a little gas much the way I knew it would, Thom although I still recall your toothless hum and I would certainly speed this up if I could keep myself from not having so much fun at your expanse, so dense, in pretense, here's your plum ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Pawns are the first to fall they’re easy. Your queen is the one that's pure sleezy but your wife is not so make-believie Fucking her mouth, was like fucking your's Thom thanks for the plums, but you can keep em. For your special day in the parade Oh, and here's a can of glade for your crippled charade, don't be afraid, you'll be just fine. 8-03-03 ~ By Bachus the grapiest poet alive.