Sunday, March 24, 2019

The Militarization of the Moon: Cat gun







Above us: the chains of his lair. Below us: her withering
kelp, slippy.

‘i stroke my lover to load her up, puurrr purrr’
‘and i shoot the load when i am stroked, meow.’
(We just kissed on the condition that the cosmic puppeteer
was watching through a heavy silver ringlet.)


Perverts playing video games eroticize thread.
And make of it a garter ribboned dog bite
Which at the very least frays the assembly line
OUCH!
Lots of MEOW MEOW’s and BANG BANG’s now.

This didn’t last long.
Soon returning the military pair into two restless children
on a Christmas eve in early march,

Sneaking sneaking down the stairs to catch a glimpse of santa
claus

How does that big governing body operate?
Get back up stairs to bed you pesky children, it is 3AM!

‘Replicators’; your way of saying you have no idea where your
breakfast came from this morning.  

‘Moon?’; my way of saying i have no idea where this morning
came from
. -End-


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