Tuesday, July 11, 2006

fish paste glue

spitting out pieces of his broken luck teeth he knuckles down with primate pride and polishes the tip of his good luck charm. the effort takes him but minutes and his efforts are rewarded by the pages being welded together as if by fish paste glue. but then again, perhaps it is?

ever wonder why?
ever think at all?

nah, no need is there? just limp along with a belly full of piss and a head full of shit.
you my son are the future and the past and the present.

and you know what?

you are as good as it gets.

words by cocaine jesus