A dedicated poem to RED ARMY FACTION #ZENITH #RAF.
Zenith¢
Image by spastic via Flickr
Although drill wills
the clock ticks
light lows and narrows
hardware after hardware blares
louder than a cry of baby ‘till
clock paused at its burrow.
The drill swills
clock upon attacks
of shuffling gas pump
a murky man rescued
from spotty Talmudic ills
of a broken sugar crumb.
Swamp thing.
To bite is the vegetation
of Red Army Faction.
Criticism is the vice
of versa dickeys,
sickest zombies.
If else all fails,
it is the ailment
of sickness that
readies the meat
cooking. Tread five senses
carefully and surely
you will find your cents
way to Ironclad Cross.
One night off road,
there were allies.
Aryan Nations of
reimbursed bombing of
Fairfax INOVACS hospital
therefore should be
decimated, dear Polish
friends. It is inscribed
thus so. Unitarian Church
of Irish-Americans and
Croatian-Americans,
UNITE and UNTIE BOOTS!
For slick is the only 13th Pope indoctrination in a permeation of politeness.
Jiri H. Stefanovich © Copyright 2010 All Rights Reserved.
℠ Bad Robot
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