Stevie McCabe's Diabolic Blog

2017 Stuff, Anger, Collective Consciousness, farts, Poetry, Sorrow, Stinking Fish, Time, Violence

Smells like teenage farts

This room smells like a ghost town
This place stinks to high heaven
This thing is a piece in the puzzle, a tiny part
This stinks like a Seven-11

Its gonna be a wolf-head ghost town
When the levee breaks you know you’re done
King of hearts trumps a joker
Tell me when the deal is done

Whats up with the stench in this ghost town?
Mister Wolfie, what is the time?
Couldn’t get the odor out of the place with
Parsley sage rosemary or thyme


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