Trippin You Out Poem by chris bowen, a.k.a to wit

Trippin You Out



spoken like an arrow, shot at the farrow.the infinite narrow.i bow and arrow campground.left lying around i was.now im all a buzz.see the infinite cuz? he was....kin to me, now hes partially torn.its his going on.the air born virus.vote for byron.

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chris bowen, a.k.a to wit

chris bowen, a.k.a to wit

fernanadina a.k.a ghost town
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