~ 10,000 leprechauns & 1 death star

 

there is no gold

at the end of my rainbow, just a village

of cerebral pillagers … nuggets

in crack crystal white are disguised as

sham~rock dealers, no dust

because bitches love rocks

in a bowl of Lucky Charms;

 

10,000 leprechauns armed ready

in blow body armor impersonating the recreational

of pipe liquid rapes

in a death star orbiting orifices

where foam froths

in galaxies far far away …

 

like magnetic snow

snowmen are born in the imaginations

of blurry face`s, and fixes

are pixelized over pores

pulsing to please [ insert your needles here ] …

and ‘I’m sorry, honey’ that your eggs have embryos ~

just cut the umbilical chords

and everything will be alright.

 

 

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