BP Oil (a hot place in hell)

There will be bloodshed.
all the stars you once wished upon
will hurl themselves to earth
destroying all you've created while
rebuilding all you've destroyed.

All that have danced blindly
on the killing floor of vanity and greed
will all at once meet their end leaving
thin crusts of fingernails layering the
sides of their open caskets.

All your witty bumper stickers will melt,
gas stations will explode,
the stale cafes that freckle
this wretched town
filled with the politically correct
shit fucks writing some freelance dribble
in their journals, NOT with a black pen
but an African American pen mind you
will splinter in glorious flame,
churches will collapse,
flags will unfurl and fall,
your Prada shoes will be
used to run your selfish asses to the
place where your useless
currency will be nothing more than
kindling to warm the peels of lewd shit
that encrust and dig outward from within.

Your facial scrubs,
your spa treatments,
your 80's dance parties,
your electric corn-oil cars,
your self bronzers,
every shit hole cd you own,
your stocks,
your bonds,
your boobies bracelet,
your Lance Armstrong pipe dream
of doing something good as long as you
get the credit,
your bags of seedless grapes,
your bottled water in recycled dolphin safe plastics,
your tofu dildos,
your dreamy button down partner,
your maggot brained so called friends
that consider a good time sitting around
in a hot tub with filled
with dumb snooki bitches
that can't spell the word integrity,
your gold cards,
your platinum cards
will no longer buy you time to gouge
this gift you stand upon
but will allow it to
open up and swallow you whole.
you will all lie in
unmarked festering holes
of filth and waste.

This one thing i can promise you.


Ray Strickland jr. May 25, 2010

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