Author Information
Who is Timbuktu?
Folder:
PAPER PURSUIT
He's asking himself that same question,
Doing everything he claims he doesn't want to.
Trifles. An existential dilemma. Sheer futility.
Caught up in all the drama, wicked fishnets
Coughing phlegm of trauma rot
Yet pretends to waken, though faded
Facing day by dying day
Turns out our illusion is actually real.
Grunts and mumbles like a drunken sailor
(So reel this bitch in, Captain Cunt!)
Of a sunken ship named Blasfemy...
She's very badly barnacle ridden, indeed;
Could use a poop scrub, at the very least
