kids on bikes

six o'clock.

Rain drops soak the streets with canary yellow rivers that suture to pavement and split off into parallel road lines , leading me to my stupid tomato stinky neon tarry dirt jungle job.

let's start again

I hate working

Yesterday I was in my jungle, fighting the vines that grab at my scratched up zuchinni arms.
I overhear the loud red tomatoes in a forest of green sour ones
the red ones are disgusted
they moan things like "swearing is really disgusting" and their thick seedy mouths spit when they say the words.
And I thought maybe we could be friends
but now I'm swearing at them in my heads
things like "you stupid lying pompus fucks."
and my scratched up zuchinni arms and legs ooze out their poison
and I feel like the suckers that the tomatoes are forcing us to push away

i am completely without music these days
now I remember why I feel like defiance,ohio
why I've always felt like these simple

I'm telling you, I'm this!

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