My hobby would probably be patiently painting poetic particles to posture & pose like passive participles or primary school principals with paradoxical principles placing pages packed with sonic syllables inside §üM∿syllabi pigeonholed of a religion like a prison who made the decision to hold an 8 year old bashful but bold because never considered the weather nor interstellar fortune tellers nor even whether we could ever go home when cursed to be too clever so instead told he was too old so then was sold but never mattered after the mould was destroyed & scattered so to confuse those gangstar goons who exume Phoenix fumes using purple plum plumes plucked from protected Polynesian parrots named Polly or oh-so pompous Pokémon pidgeotto who go “bah-gawk!” while throh & sawk who produce passion fruit juice to infuse with phantasmic phonics fuel & breeder Brock’s onyx splooge when pinned in the papacy’s preschool playpen where KIDS go for sore rear ends & parental pressure to just pretend those monsters are peak peity when in reality perverted predators worse than redditors who smell like cat piss & turds yet worse being paid to perform Baal’s ballpoint pens’ patented processes pirated across seven Cs following Frodo figuring the falinks formation öF foreign invasion or maybe a mistranslation of seraphim sensation from fascists fearing ever freeing the creepy Kree only fleeing from any & all feeling like some bum who has become undone like an iridescent resident with the reflection of rent-peasant passing up the present planning to run for president feasting on frosted-flakes from feral ferrets with dandruff & Paired be decadent pheasant tits with unpleasant scents from central air vents lent by Kent meant to be sent to sit on the picket fence found underground like Indian burial mounds of childhood hounds near criminal compound for a thieves guild fence now trying yet cannot commence this cursed course for the cure called recompense for Phoebe be feeling oh-so forlorn from incessant massaging your crusty crotch meat like Arby’s as well your other private parts with a cart full of plastic dicks & fists covered in shit & piss while watching way too much high-school hentai like a pervert in disguise or maybe be a brony so beating your sad little sausage to my little pony porn nearly never leaving your college dorm except for locating lotsa lemon-scented lotion because you can’t even afford to score a cheap weekday whore at the corner of the superstore after ending her shitty Tuesday noon shift making men stiff performing before she completes their frisky feeling by unsealing the glory at the palace of pussy galore getting you off with just her feet like a lousy loser who looks just like a louse on a mouse as lice give rodents good advice while looking for a noose for personal use then leaving on your iron pony padded with paisley cushions covered with daisies & kush blunt now fondling your constipated caboose so full of shit yet taking your shot before you got what you ought forging forward ’till ’til transitioning toward London’s literary library literally linked to Lady Liberty where we located Gigi Philosophy who grew to be Love’s liability society trying to defeat Hate like Barbary state armies invading Crete in 1660 while there because they refuse to share with woodland deer nor the cloudberry care bears who stare at stairs leading where waiting be West’s East ward patiently waiting near South Sanctuary’s North stationary actuary making paper planes for aria’s insane aviary calvary cooing while roosting on the 3rd floor where sometimes appears a §trange door with four Orange screws covered in ghostly green goo globbed on like glow in the dark glitter glue gradually glowing a gradient blue like a conspiracy about jews from Q who intend to violate Violet’s Vuse violently when Her Ñü∿Muse finally be blowing electric Bic’s circuit fuse so can’t work it so what’s the use when faith failed you forever by failing to help you choose the channel with blues clues & whose form be far from nature’s norm because born öDDLY∿Ådorned with drawings of cocks & corn growing after the spiraling storm rotating like rotisserie chicken wings stricken with streams so suddenly surrendering spirals so start subsiding yet when reverting to reverberating with ripples then returning to rising rapidly from the floor fracturing so surprising me now wondering if this be forming from the devil’s backdoor carrying a dubious demon core covered in orphan gore like a bull stabbed with a sword by a mediocre matador with a sense of self grandeur yet really just a wannabe conquistador with little more than an arcade’s high score but going on like a ringing gong so guessing this must mean that there’s definitely gonna be another hell encore & much more in store -wait- luckily it just be Evelyn’s ebony elevator with Ivan’s ivory skeleton keys you use to select your floor in which you’re heading while serenading you & your fiendish friend forever condemned who’s nothing but a boorish boar but being such a bore for evermore even if when 6ft under Gaia’s forest green floor
[v.1 – original base which I Am continually building upon to infinity & beyond]
My hobby would probably be painting poetic particles like participles to confuse goons who exume fumes using parrot & pigeotto plumes infused with phonix fuel & onyx splooge to perform a ballpoint pen’s patented process following formation of sensation feeling from some peasant feasting on frosted-flakes, ferrets & pheasants, now feeling unpleasant & forlorn from incessant watching of my little pony porn (here’s some more poems)
♡Sugar☆World☮ 