A little bit of wreck,
into some semblance of focus,
mixes for a second,
with raw,
instance inhibited,
a beautiful,
flop damned,
only a moment,
of what was life.
But for a moment,
Only a moment,
It was still,
Before that solid wail.
of screeching metal,
gliding with bone and blood.
Ousted onto a table,
To be slapped in the ass,
by a team of lone rangers.
Grab that breath
With gusto,
Smell that first shit.
Shit is life,
Makes us grow.


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