"It's about words, and words are all I have…"

i’m a man of wealth+taste

he had yellow hair  +a wicked combover  a swiss cheese-ey elvis

face strangely pitted  bloated  bugeyed  the wife a mail order bride

with fangs    they’re gone now  crawled back under the rock from

whence they came


but america will never be the same   74+ million  deplorables  some

with long guns +horns  crawled out too   grunting   now forcibly

separated from his de base   by the stolen election   he weeps   as

Mel tells her pallid son:  be best  and go back to your room





Winter 2021’s lonely at the bottom..


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