Remember the ravenous, the Failed

click typeboard, kill a sentence...consume the time. I want to sleep sugarcones and gumdrops instead of genocidal gunshots. bayonettes for our enemies. we also have posts on which to prop their thoughtbox after decapitation. bloodboil baths down to tempers and revenge. I bet I'll forgive 'em in a cold night when I realize how warm the light of life could be. When my fingers were frozen I first flipped through the comic book. I saw your fuckin name written everywhere in those bubbleboxes. Boston is one big drainage ditch for the duranged run-off. Rampage. Rage. Remember. Ravenous. Rejuvenated by the time we are diagnosed. I'm looking for a reason to change the season. Agree with your peers about the choice of beers and spit slime for you boys about the last of the years. The end is as close as a comet-tail, as bright as a nuke burn, and as loud as a picturetube of a broke television being dropped from the roof. It's swelling up, eyewater welling up, hell enough for sketelons. Wither away like boozebottles dropped on flower patches. We've chosen failure from our long, long, long list of options. We ate everything in sight, drank every last cup of pure splash, and burned down the forests so you could get a clearer view. Do you see what I've been talking about now?