biohazard

cantankerous kiwis

what a shameful age to be alive

a lot of words, this miserable week, for some strange reason
it’s not duress, it’s a verbose
but dead duracell, literary backup
a heavy meal, tryptophan
an out of the ordinary amount

i’ll ask you to clarify
then we’ll scarify
it’s the most infected he’s ever seen
anything

i’m gonna miss you spit brother

old is the new young
drying under a carport, shaded from the hypersun
a florida export they’re trying out in this town
bought the hypersun with heavy-water money
good to have exports, and carports, carports
under the mountains with biohazard sand
and thin foliage

he got sweet fuck all
all he got’s the blues
maybe he ain’t supposed
to got what the old man got cause
maybe he don’t want power and
maybe the old man earned his money
but he don’t got what the young man have
either, he could use a little of that
he could use a little of that
he could put it to good use
better than you’ve ever seen
it’s got potential, like atomic energy
like, not fission, but fusion
would be a wasted opportunity
were it not taken, but it would
be the pyramid crown on the
pile of missed opportunities
and mixed blessings
blessings, and tonic water
a sandy monument, that’s all
and that’s it, biohazard, cursed

he would put it to good use
he would be a changed man
as opposed to a pipsqueak
squeaky, not sneaky
not trying to be stealthy
but somehow pulling off a
stealthy state worthy of a
mephistophelean minion
a middleman for diabolical skill
in whatever, a dragonforce wholesaler
and i didn’t want to know she signed on

if you could breathe underwater, where would you go?
if you had friends underwater, who would you know?
the bass octaves denote tragedy
but it don’t show up on sonar
it barely perturbs the surface
the smooth social circumference

which orgy tent?
you’re a legend dave