mjz

I Hate It Here (after Ellis)

by Eugene Boittiaux

I hate you.
I hate your horny entrepreneurs.
I hate your smirking fashionable cassanovas.
I hate how you lead to domestic violence.
I hate your fast cars, just waiting for the chance to go somewhere else and fast, their spite manifest in the white-knuckled rev of their engines.
I hate your jocks and nerds still scared to clenched teeth and fists of eachother, graduated from high-school years ago and now free half-assed psychopathic assholes in the adult world.
I hate your drunken rock'n'rollers, happy as pigs in shit that they'll be balls deep in your lost love-addicts later on tonight.
I hate what you do to my mother and I hate the way you just shot my sister's friend to death in the back.
I hate your demented chivalry that loves to fight for an honor that isn't there.
I hate the way you bare your teeth and are ready to beat the shit out of anything, provided it's weaker than you and only the right people are looking.
I hate the pats on your back and lack of imagination.
I hate the way your artists dare not walk the streets at night, between their poetry readings.
I hate the puppy-dog eyes of your addicts and fallen losers who have seen too much and are dealing with the haunted castles in their minds by letting them wither and rot.
I hate the chastising looks at your absolute best pilgrims.
I hate your fun and I hate the way you tell me to forget it and I hate the way you tell me to lighten up and I hate your new shirt.
And you can bet I hate the way you make me feel.
So, laugh it up.
Wipe the spent cum off of your cock on my exausted back and crack open another beer.
But I swear on the holy piss of Jesus Christ that I will have my revenge on you, city.
And I will dance on your crooked black heart.
As stars fall in the sky and the desperate mouths and fingers of your plants clench for the Sun and quiver in your night, I will dance on your detestably beautiful surface.
As the wind kisses the cheeks of lovers embracing in your warm hidden spaces, I will do anything to assist the wild and cunning fox to drag you into traffic and clench its jaws tight around your throat to bring you to the brink of life.
To lap at the pumping crovvy in your veins and arms as you lie with your back in the wet dewy midnight grass kissing the in-betweens of your fingers, that you may fall off the surface of the world into flight.

deja voodoo

Hey! I don't even have a cock to spend cum on your back with!

I might go grab a cold beer, though - it's swelteringly hot over here.


So hang on and I'll be right back, and you can tell me all about it, k. Just lie on the couch and get yourself comfortable. I won't be long...







...okay, so, tell me - what's got'cha so pissed off about stuff, huh?


:angel:

Jobar

You know, that would have been a whole lot better if you had chosen 'LittleMissSunshine' as your user name.

Agnostic Theist

<removed>

MrFrosty

Don't hate the player. Hate the game.

Agnostic Theist

:down:

KingLouie

I hate the absolute despair in what you've written, greaselove, but dang it all, there's some extremely powerful descriptions in there. And if it was you who wrote it, then you've got a real knack for description, to me.

From the Jungles of a Sweltering City,

Kang Louie