Have some whiskey.
Now quickly,
Change the subject
You chain smoking shit.
You're just dribbling piss
On paper.
That cancer ridden vapor
Doesn't make you derivative,
Like those angst ridden fucks
Freshly plucked
From mommy's tits.
(Swigs)
"Bullshit!"
You're right.
It's the same
Depleted vein
Drained from
The same songs
The same troglodytes
Pigs and philistines,
The sublimes of rhythmic torture
And contortion...
Try a haiku.
"Ignorant lame rhymes,
Evidently lacking drive;
I can't write for shit."
What is this, free verse?
Are you weak, do your knees hurt?
Do you stumble when you see these skirts?
These cunts will make you bleed a masterpiece,
Believe me.
Serrated blades,
Pistols and hand grenades.
We love the fight.
Always ready to die.
"That's a cliche."
Do you have any last words?
"Here lies a glass man:
He shattered,
Believing he was concrete."
How will you end?
" I don't know."
