[NuBBiN]

I splore what your spleening my fiend!..if the greatness of the bakedness weren't such a fakeness, that is likely described as a fishing man or woman hand on tomb and touching the womb of the crunchy tigers abroad like they saw god in a giant pea pod with a nod of their head they need their bed of thoughts and hay like grits and clay and meds of threads with thy heads of colors blue and red with the may of april and fall of summer and rise of rome all at fort sumter in one week of a hot pornstar with corn starch all over her porshe car...by far the mar mar at wong woos chinese bar is much harder than having to barter with a martyr named chris farley who will never be quite what he used to be because hes a skeletal bee of ashes and graves of bartenders and slaves not blacks or blues or japanese world war twos of the movies and blues of the greed and steed like a mapleberry weed, speaking of the need I toke up with speed wanting to heed that last bleed in myy heart for something like a need I tried ot take shots of vodka knowing I wasn't getting far but knowing that if I switched to labbat blue everything would be coo...I drink a 40, it was delitious..no it was the drug which made me stop rhyming and the drink loosened my heart's tie and tye dye I like my eyes to pry like the gods of the sky who watch us on our high and makes us uunderstand hes the guuywho will keep us in line for some time its fine to rhyme with a line and a line but not in a lime or lima bean will you find me mean or interesting in the thing which is clean yet me all me with thee in a tree, you and me will party with pee wee and then be in a rake with a wakeness of this bakedness with not such a fakeness or the greatness of dejavu in you I leave you now to think about the rhyme I tell to ponder in hell...with sploring of the spleening what my fiend namron was meaning....in time will it come, the true meaning...