untitled 1
by
the sneetches

I just grew a cunt, by damn
It's a little on the yellow side,
Like a rotten ham
It goes down my legs in a gooey mess
Then a dog licks it from my dirty dress

Yes, I wear a dress
My pussy likes it
So my pussy gets

It wears it's scabs like a badge of honor
All the crack hoes in the neighbor hood
Just want to holler
Cause they say I'm taking all their business
From the dirty mexicans who like it's jizzyness

But it's cold today as the crack hoes swarm
Around my pussy for something warm
They eat its scabs and suck its form
Ah oh I think something's wrong

My jizz pump just jumped from my legs
Get away from me you fucking hags
I feel a burning deep deep down
It seems my pussy has turned into a clown

 

 

untitled 2
by
the sneetches

Oh you vile creatures of good
Why do you mock me in those ways

That is so biting to my soul

Have you thought yourselves much better
Than me?

Perhaps so,
Perhaps, as a small frail boy,
I once too did things that would
Rival your cruel intentions

A blue horse crossed our yard once
And I stuck it like a little boy
who pokes a dying rat with a stick
And i watched it's entrails steam out
Of it's side as I poked and cut with my
Little boy stick

A porcupine came upon me
And terrorized me in such a bad way
It bit into my leg
Only to discover the coldness
Of human flesh.

 

 

untitled 3
by
the sneetches

Disgust is canonical. Though it's procedure is clean. The deaf women
sees her screams as the man-child opens his own wounds with a rusty
saw blade found on the steps of a church. The rust was said to have
come from a young priest who took his own life shortly after smelling the fecal matter of God's wretched angels.

On a day he thought blessed by the Creator itself he stumbled upon, after hearing the vilest of sounds coming from his basement, the divine Angel creatures eating upon a rat they had just killed. It's said that as the priest took in the divine stench he became so disgusted with his own beliefs, he cherished so much at one sweet time in his life, that he grabbed a saw blade lying in the corner of the basement room. Taking this instrument of salvation, he tore into his own flesh. As the blade cut through the cloth of his robe and into his delicate pale skin something darker than red flowed.

 

 

untitled 4
by
the sneetches

So I pose this question. Is it too much to expect a love filled with vile intentions? May I take it upon myself to explain why love can smell just as foul as the dog's feces? Thank you my fine audience. Only I could love the evil you all represent. May I be the first to say to you all collectively; your smell is more wonderful to my nose than a field of cut grass after a rain. Oh don't take my grim aspect or the blood and vomit I choke down as I say these words as disingenuous; my intentions are noble. It is just that I had a foul sandwich this morning. It seems it was made from the rotted flesh of some rodent like animal; I wasn't quite sure what was in it but the sweet proprietress, of the restaurant I purchased this sandwich in, assured me of my future delight. However, I do not blame any of you for this. For, as I said earlier, I adore all your disgusting faces.

 

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