Sunday, September 16, 2012


      Icculus! PT I
      Misguided, misplaced from that stowed away book
      like Multi-beast jabs, turned blinding right hook
      lost my shit in a deal, for my knight, with a rook
      Wilson, the rebels proclaimed, you bad crook
      Jones Beach drenched the groundwork for weeks malcontent
      venting hell bent towards Maine, Loose in the moment
      Molly's lips kissing mine, turned Great Woods heaven sent
      then to Camden, a run, God's conceived, in merriment!
      T-Pain's hizzle drizzled and the dusting awoke
      Sirens swiftly persuade as words were unspoke
      crystal images glisten as their tempers invoke
      a grip towards the neck in a tempting to choke
      Fleet Hound's bay at the moon in a fortnight beware
      counting in their countenance agaze at a glare
      firing several warning shots in a frenzy to scare
      colonel forbin's armed rebels those which none compare

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