Shit,
i just stepped on a piece of shit,
shit, fucking shit, i am angry, pissed,
this fucking dirty odor of man's best-friend sits
underneath, my left shoe sole,
and now i am, with every might
trying to cleanse,
shoot, shit,
i can just imagine the stupid man,
or the dumb broad standing there,
face half covered, between his hat,
and her scarf,
trying to hide, as if i would not recognize
the stupid, rat looking, domestic.
I have a bank full of memories, stolen memories and my memories. No longer sure of which is which so I look into every memory bill in search to find my memories. The price of memories, right now no longer worth much until someone is willing to charge because we are always willing to pay, we just don't know it yet. This is my memory banks and I share it with you.
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