A poem for Xmas


We are spent,
our civility undone,
desire squirted out,
secretions secreted.

What was continent is
Collectively our seed fell on stony ground.

Time to discover what we got for our savings,
like, fuck all.

We spent jackasses after making babies,
lying on our sides
gasping for toys tat toffee ipad laptop clipclop nice shop apple store more.

There is always more,
it comes from China you know,
to satisfy the yearning.
There is always more,
but we are spent.

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