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Dudes: Let Us Pray
[ Saturday, December 5, 2009]

Malla-wanna-comma-inna hooliebin,
Dance gopakly with neggohood forniklaatchies.
Measured by stratadata et privy pasta
Amidst swash of buckledown
Dublooning uncountless dogs
Agorophemera! I say
Evolutionary scales of pisschoses
In the atmosphere of hairwaves,
White Amerighostoghetto,
Country of Khristian
Hovervating over assholes’
Assets bestowed by the grays of Jay-SOOS,
Gospels of plenty
Turning frosty lucreloot
To promises of heaven to boot.
(or codge tuition, same-same)
Dudes, let us pray! 

Malla-wanna-comma-inna hooliebin,
Dance gopakly with neggohood forniklaatchiates.
Here in the foppishlanduvplenty
Ours is a vengefolk place
Forgivedmess a black echo
In the book of words.
We send hellmeted vols
On orders of pols
To make firewar
Carry pigstickers of democrapacy
Atop the Hindu Kush
Let them make war, our fools
And underbellylings god hath
Not anointed with the wait of
Trustfustyfumes, yea
Send those with no options
To kill those with no options,
Ours against theirs,
Dudes: Let us pry!

Malla-wanna-comma-inna hooliebin,
Dance gopakly with neggohood forniklaatchitites.
May roadkill and offalsquash
Stay off the tube
Where it risks quashing knightly repasts
But let blood flow elsewhere
Among faithless heathens
We define as those who don’t believe
As we believe,
Let us cyberopticly drop
Daisy Cutters on fleshpoints of tribes
With vengeance’s heartwork
Dicklatattered by undoodooers
Drinking of that viney mush
Called powah.
Dudes: Let us bray!

Malla-wanna-comma-inna hooliebin,
Dance gopakly with neggohood forniklaatchiates.
Let others carry spears
Risking death’s long byebye
While mouse-pieces of God
Call for blood
Artwork, fartwork,
At home we need to start work
Find jobs
The chichineufy mimenovels
Don’t assdress,
Roaring through the Worient Sxpress
Of Dollar Stores “Made in China.”
Dudes: Let us pay!

Malla-wanna-comma-inna hooliebin,
Dance gopakly with neggohood forniklaatchingers.
I hear hair grow
While orphans burn orphans
(line ganked thankee much from mailerman)
Bic deal, pass the zagcigs, Bro.
Show me your zipdrive, sugar
While we egg-wash history
Time will surely yellow,
Let’s turn all to a shooterie,
How do we unscrew?
Let us burn the burkas
With wearers inside,
Screaming, “Gooks in the wire!”
We have snow,
Did I mention that?
On the ground, in our hearts,
How do we count our own
Death throes, or should we?
We are the ice people
Abaiting the Ko-baw-sa
Of fickletickled fate fingering
I seek no meaning in words
Or action: Mine, thine, our’n, their’n.
We are here lost eternally and pronounically.
Dudes: Let us prey!

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