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St. Stadt on Secretions
(or Blindly Jumping Through Circus Hoops)

Stinking concubine postulates the end is near as lanced members explode in fruity secretions not of this earth, but alone. Alone I stand with blind eye toward the darkness of Heaven, oh the skies are as salty as the night, the night as dark as every day as she licks the nape of my pencil dick, the light forever removed from the blind eyes toward space, time, poodles dancing in skirts that offer no blame to the wise that brought us to ruin—the ruin of man as he plays with his toys, men.

Homo-erotic secretions these games, wanking, buggers all skipping rope whilst praising the wrong Lord how far have we come to the abyss' edge, may the Fiery Rain bless all the children who lie pinned to the butterfly book, fish hooks hanging flaccid from the concubine's ear dangling frothy wisdom no more refrained as the lips burn my eyes, washed, dried, blistered in the heat of the Fiery Rain, rain stinging the tails of those that flee, piercing my brain as I recall the blight that was once my eyes, spun around the concubine's mouth, slippery, sliding, porpoises jumping through the circus hoops, what joy! What glee!

Listen to thy heart, listen to thy dreams of Jellies and fishies and toadies and squirming men's hearts, for this is the word of thy lord, thy cetaceous heart.

Feel the burn, the sting, the coarse tendrils of my wanking dream as the night explodes unto reality. Tribbles vomited upon shoes. Eyes swallowed hard, peeking from her womb, will the concubine defecate a new world? A new pussy secreting not another man's wanking pool?

Long may Cnidaria rule!

Operative S, The Lost JS

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