Out shut

He should've hammered harder.

Should've swung until the eyes rolled back and the head fall into the slow, fat lap of the garrison.

Stepfords, lost and lonely.

Camera folds.

And negro carrying the stiff weight of the air his counters played in manicured silence on the east end.

His cock swollen. limp. contrary.

Bare-chested summer men. squealing like children. suckling pigs. two-bit motherfuckers held in the soft cell of american ego as the price for killing them off, son. every last goddamn low-eyed one until there was a just cause left to call our own.

But there was. there was.

He swore, naked still.

And dead.

Like I Give A Care.mp3