Wednesday, November 4, 2009

Immoral Fuck

, I've been trying to contact you regularly,
just to tell you that we will no longer be contacting you.
You have outspended your cool cache,
and all the art that you like has become passé.

We can't even go to museums with you, you embarrass us so much.
And I can't give you my credit card because you're under aged brain.
How am I supposed to pay you, without such economic facility?
And what brand of parmesan do you usually order from the stores anyway?

I return to life, resuscitating like the father who supplied arms.

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