Bring it to the bear.
Something is near something rancid its on its way smells like the sweet meat next door like the buster duster on full Speed on the head full ready to destroy the fun dress up for the role play I think I will I.... . .
Hearing a scream and its mine.
Note to the platoons with mud on boots secrets of hands and swoops of cigs. The speedway blast out of the rusty muzzle. Save the tired eyes. I am, what I am am I I am Hello, yes I am yes I am what I am.
Its on its way. speed on full something is hear in the room something can ready to destroy the thought speedway blast out of the rusty its mine in
note to control process.
hearing a scream and muzzle. save the tired eyed handicap bastard.
Tell them to let you get that hot shot of the root you spend over and under then back and forth over and I never will ever sever from my hands to have... September 16th 1986.
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Comments about this poem (Bring it to the bear. by Joe Elmenhorst )
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