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March 2005 / Volume VI / Issue II | ||||||||||
Willie Smith | ||||||||||
On Getting None I wanna fuck a none, wanna fuck a zero, wanna eat summa that cipher pie. I wanna get into the habit of nothing at all, crawl down the neck of an empty, set the clock back inside my daddy’s cock to before he wet the face of that bloody egg that became me and my arithmetic. I wanna slip into the skirt of a holy ghost and take a vacuum up the ass. I wanna fuck a none, wanna fuck a zero, wanna eat summa that cipher pie. There is no tighter than a none, nothing more loose than a not, and no taste fits every space like the tang of a zero tart. There is no easy squeeze outta this hole, except to drool wholeheartedly at the thought of eating and fucking a none. There is no way to lose your grip on the sad, the sick and the ugly, but to slip into the saddle of a none, fuck the reins and feel the nag run you through the screaming rain to die in a spasm on whatever washed-out crust of a cipher remains. There is no tighter than a none, nothing more loose than a not and no taste fits every space like the tang of a zero tart, I wanna fuck a none. |
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RETURN to MARCH 2005 |