Cencor This & That

Censor this and censor that

We all wanna play with guns but we don't want no fire spat.

Do it say the N-word or the F-word

Or you can say neck, but without the word red in it.

Recite the reality, but only puffy corns

My two lips your clitoris, oatmeal van glorious

My daisy face your penis

Your kisses make me shiver with ecstasy

Or that I may gaze into the limpet pools

That are in your eyes in front of me.

But in the same reality, shit happens

And we all fall back in it, and we get up,

And keep on trucking and good luckin ………..so we think.

We all continue to restrict our peripheral vision

With pink elephants and purple polka-dotted

Formaldehyde lolly pops to harden us from reality that there is a big, smoldering, oversized mountain of pachyderm poopy smoldering in the Corner Of the living room

With maggots and larva flies squirming faster than normal.

And mesquites with the wild Nile style.

And the anthrax Booty wax…..look!

I even think that that large pile of elephant shit is moving on its own now

Sprouting little legs and everything.

DAmn This BooBoo is hot

Hot With the heat of being censored and ignored.

…………….And while everybody sits at the dinner table in their newly cleansed dry-clean suits and skirts.

The pachyderm poopy has finally exploded

all over the living Room and the Dining room table, and their dinner

And the people sitting at the table.

No one seems to be reacting to the explosion, though,

They continue to dine on their fine meals and clink another drink to the Supposed Good life.

Little sibling Sally at the end of the table says

”Hey, doesn’t anybody smell something funny”

The grown-ups at the end of the table say,

”Oh, it’s nothing, probably just a garbage passing by

Or a skunk down the road, my title wee tyke”.

Dear, could you please get up and shut the door, hun?

So she gets up from the dinner table and walks over to the window with the Whole side of her Lilly White dress splattered with thick pachyderm pie pie

And gently closes the window in the living Room and walks back to the dinner table to sit down.

Little sibling Sammies' face takes on a look of confusion.

Little sibling Sammy takes a 20-dollar bill out of his pocket

Gripping the bill with tack and Funk finger

Between the elevated and grounded hard left and hard right numbers of 20

From the top half room of the White House

Fold it down to the second floor.

From the trees, from hard left to hard right

Hold them together with your middle finger and thumbs and make the unit.

On the second floor above the 1st door is the basement of the trade center all crumpled to look like a art deco blender.

And folds it into a paper airplane to enhance the hidden pictures of the burning Twin Towers

And tosses it toward two shining lights of prophecy.

With a count, Poopyula once possessed the area

The results of a Shizenhoffin’ censorship

Reveals the residuals of its horrible but also unfortunately realistic and Untasty flavor of a dirty bomb bombastic