EXPERIMENTAL WRITING

IF WRITING WERE A MORE SUBJECTIVE ART, THE FOLLOWING POSTS WOULD BE BRILLIANT

Sunday, August 06, 2006

DIE ME A RIVER

DIE ME A RIVER. let it submerge into a lake of fire. let the sun coagulate the ocean until it rains cats and corpses. what's that hitting my face? THAT, my boy, is your dead uncle adam.

Adam was redrum'med by somaliazed bees, fucked by honey shots in the hive of the suburban jungle. SKEET SKEET SKEET. the bees are dripping poisonous semen into his aortic valve without fear, without remorse, without hope for the safety of beekind.

"WHO killed uncle harry?" asks the naive little bee-friendly snot.
"The second and last letters of the alphabet," replies the old man, "it was a crime of passion. a crime of love. and now B is second to no one."

DIE ME A RIVER, sings the sultry whore, naked on the piano. a forgotton tribute to the ghost of uncle adam.

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