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my poem

it doesn't rhyme
Subject: oh my god, vh1 oh


is evil evil evil the greatest 150 songs in the last twenty five years has
now kept me nearly two hours up late downloading music from the internet and
dave chappelle contributed but also I must note that the opening of the
whole let's get them terrorists, now watch this drive comedic premier farce
is quite _nearly_ sold out for friday night shows and I think I really must
see it and eat the projectionist and screamingly tear off my clothes
careening madly about the theatre and through the screen imbibing inhaling
the sweet musk that is a society in hate of its masters and the slow
glorious buildup of violently orgasmic revolutionary lust that grows
inevitably closer with every sweating minute it's growing the pressure is
growing like a spring melt driven landslide of water down snowmelt and
ice-pack mountain valley crashing unceasingly upended unto the low ended
concrete dam of repression and economic slavery its rising a tide against
the turbines of progress whining in high pitched overheat sweating and
bursting the moorings broken loose from the rivers' rockwalls the turbine
blades singing forth in caustic anticipation of sweet red flesh to bleed
from to drink from the dying necks of the managers and mill engineers behind
the catastrophe.

i must see this movie. i must see this movie and live a waking dream of
sweet sweet riotous murder. i must see this movie and kill my state.