“It’s life or death. If
I don’t get 200 likes
I delete it, state.”
Advertisements
“It’s life or death. If
I don’t get 200 likes
I delete it, state.”
“The new chicken coop
Is lame. I would rather they
Were in my freezer.”
Foreboding silence
And perpetual stank face
Deter no suitors.
She stumbles into
A bikini ad campaign,
On shocked camelback.
“Fuck off,” he says through
Gritted teeth and a mouthful
Of cold garlic bread.
Give me some jewelry.
I don’t got any. Oi, help
A brother out, ey.
Looked across and gave
’em my best stank eye, real good.
They had it comin’