shepard fairey



ras

ras

ras


ras

ras

ras

ras

gustav dore

our boys

death and burial

wm

Monday, July 7, 2008

Lost Crisis Theater Calling


just to check in; I wanted to say
that this wasn’t what I was expecting;
not the quiff off the quim, the veriest, not
the one told enwombed, not the shelliest parade
for the stage; not the milk-boned, nor the putty-minded,
neither held him sway. His obliquitards alone
set myths to Sysphistean tears. Her need turned
his mind to jelly.


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