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you bitch
you demon
you make them believe
you make me a product
you make my mother beg

you are dirt
scum from my cock
you are a bum's last urine
and you still come back

I donąt refer to you
I donąt capatilize you
I visualize you
I imagine you
I can picture you

you are evil
you are a baby's breath
lost from a beaten husband
you are a hanger for pros
and lust from nukees out west
you are a marcher and become a face
of a priest or rabbi
even a ceo

god you are my television
you are a cleaner
you are my servant
because I form you
I mold you
you are only my thoughts
which I do not believe
do not believe

god you are a whisper
you are my love's gate
and cage
and cook

god you do not exist
I am without a chest
I hear the sounds
the revolutions
and repeptitions

but all you can give me
is parting seas
books of words
clothing full of assholes
and emblems representing your existence

I say fuck you
as I eat at your heavenly body
your soul
your belief
your printed matter
your trees and nicely cropped bush

I say fuck you
as your servants beg of you
kneel to you
bow to you
I do NOT capatilize you
or socialize with you

I put my hands out
and milk you of your existence
and nurse you as you die
upon my shoulders


© 1998 David Greg Harth