I’m gonna write u poem bird. At your cafe1919. language of the birds…if u r sick u come there. 19 years of painful masturbation studying naturopathic medicine. U want the stars cured and I want my friends/family cured. The healthy stars are fake friends. Psalm 73 healthy and sleek rich people. Mother Mary is sucking on that dark cigarette nipple. Thinks she’s come a long way baby. U gotta stop her madness with her torch of freedom.
Mui Nobre e Sempre Leal
u weren’t traumatized by my pre 911 goat story until bush gave his goat story….puppet president…hand relief in coffin femur in anus
i’m hearing gargamel sez fix u and marry u. i went to your christa cathedral like p diddy victorious…cool guys don’t walk away from explosions they defuse the bomb
waiting for cocktail sword props in mail..going to try and catch bird on may 13. maybe shes down to hold hands