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a quiet afterlife for Earwig Bently.

here's a poem for the fresh dead waif. You,
staid. Folding in.
Stiff at the bottom
of a bowl.
whole, you lean favoring
your left-side spine.
impartial to mind matters,
      indefinitely.     lafflaff.
it's mean springweather for a spited
swollen death. it leaves still
you - dry, decaying in a cabinet.
a hollowed torso. rotten-bodied
and with odor.
sad little death crumbs    lying about;
limbs here and there.
eyes still glossy, vacant.
Super Surgeon applies
His brain-trained
spoiled fumbling hands
grasping delicate wet
sanitary tools.
pushing them into you, O small one, and through you;
the right end of his mouth
turned up with sunshined brilliance, damming laughter --
all else languid,
with a quivered chin, He takes away
what's your ears, that's how come
you seem so

12 May 06

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why don't you try using some of the words you do like?
 — Meep

I like me some fuckyoubitch!
 — OKcomputer

Explain a little please

l9 do yu mean "it is" (it's) or the possesive (its)?

l16 and 17 how can something be vacant and rapt at the same time?

l15 by damming - do mean you are holding back laughter or do you mean damning - condeming laughter?
 — unknown

You aren't making much sense, in your comments or poetry.  Is something up?
 — Meep

|9 do you mean you?

|16 and 17 how do you assume it is at the same time? there is a period.

|15 the first -- i'm not an idiot.
 — OKcomputer

Did you kill her?
 — unknown

don't get so upset - I was asking because I wanted clarification.
and there are lots of typos on this website - my own included.
I wear trifocals and the font on this website is only about 8 points
so I often have a hard time reading.  I asked you to explain a little PLEASE
I was not rude.
unlike you.
 — unknown

I just want to know if you killed Earwig? If not you, then who? Perhaps this should be the title of your poem "Who Killed Earwig Bently?"
 — unknown

thats okay you
 — unknown

Okay Okcomputer
 — unknown

You're swell. You give me dimples!!

I have not the capacity though, for dimples, so I have to give them back.
 — OKcomputer

this poem is about god
 — OKcomputer