writing a sonnet
my leg's stuck in foam
our heads nearly severed
by bug eating worms
they had grown arms
and picked up some swords
i grabbed my pen
to write down these words
in the land of milk and honey
nothing is sweet
crawl over each other
like maggots on meat
all of a sudden
in walked some fish
they had grown legs
and boy were they pissed
mad at the worms
but not at all with me
they never knew
who had really been fishing
while they were fighting
i decided to leave
i grew some wings
and got away clean
as random as the path an insect may take
towards a farm animals genitals or face
are the particles of dead skin inhaled again
making children cough like men these sickening
invasions are relative only to the devastation they bring
something kings and queens wont see
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