EID

By Matt Freire

I’m like a drug dealer
You need me more than you think
I’m your re-filler
The poetic pain killers
Like drug-zilla
You be scraping your paper and pipe
Begging me for a line
So I spit some rhymes
And get my shoes stepping
Leaving you in a haze
But you’ll soon be crawling back
Wanting to get dazed
So I light some sage and place it on the back step
And overly pack your bowls
And I elevate your chest
And lead you into my labyrinth
Of my unreserved words
Your windows covered in my spit
Your blades swipe and swerve
My spit lingers
You think you can’t wipe me away
The thoughts absurd
Observed my thoughts
And I will conjure a menace
The no living thing can endure
Your brains injured
You can’t concur
With me or any of my ravenous words
And a smile curves up
Because you need a re-up
Because with out me
You’re ugly lost and all messed up
So you hit the streets
With your money cup
Bumming around trying to get hooked up
And you end up having bad luck
You find me and say what’s up
And I say the sky and you look up
And you become star struck
Recognized your face and I kicked you in the nuts
And that’s for fifth grade
Wen you tagged my nuts
And then you proceeded to eat
My home brought lunch
And I realized you weren’t really that hungry
Because everything but my donut
Landed on me
And guess the tuna wasn’t as tasty
Or you just had a sweet tooth
And only liked pastries
and
Maybe you had a hankering
To throw my food on me
Whatever it was
It mentally changed me
You were the bully
And I was the peewee
And you always seamed
So happy
To take out your fists
And to beat me
In the shower
You’d pour with glee
Fist and kicks
And your peepee
Bloody up
Shinning me with your pee
Lying on the floor
With you laughing at me
And tell every one
About my small weenie
And hang me up
In a super wedgie
You point and laugh
When you de-pant me
I couldn’t help it
I hadn’t hit puberty
I never even had
Any face acne
And I hope it made
You feel really good
I was half your height
I can almost see how it would
So I am glad I could help
But now it’s my turn and I need some help
So I rip out your tongue and use it as a Frisbee
But it didn’t come back
And that makes me a little angry
And now I’m a disappointed I can’t hear you cry
So ill just have to watch you suffer and die
And like Raphael I pull out my sai
And I run it up and down your harry thighs
Then stick it in your gluteus
And say my my
You can have fun with these little sais
Now I’m laughing at you
As your shacking on the ground
I unzip my fly and I smile at the sound
Of my urine hitting you and
Splatting on your face
And I have to ask you
How it taste
I sorta got use to it
Like soap in the mouth
But I can defiantly see why you liked it
And now it’s my turn for me to like it
And as I spray on you
I do like it
But it’s missing something
What could it be
Oh
I slide my genes to my knees
And make you look up at me
And I moan and squeeze
And it’s probably
Weird to look up at me
Open wide it’s on its way
My Hershey squirts say it’s ok
And I’m pretty glad you never did this
But you humiliated me and I couldn’t resist

My thoughts to you are like a blur
I throw you in a paper bag like a turd
And I light the bag and leave it on your front step
So your dad can come out and stop you to death
And I walk away
I only linger until
The assignment is done
Or until
The jobs no fun
And this my friend
Is very fun
I’m like a religious healer
You need me to instill
My verbal feelers
So I take out my machete and hack off half of your face
Slide a straw in you as you’re saying grace
And I suck up your soul
Because I like how it taste
Bring your family members
So I can see how they taste
Don’t worry this isn’t blasphemy
Because I don’t want
Any of your money
I only want religious offerings
So get on the ground
And start to scream
Welcome I’m the ornery foaming machine


After I catch Osama bin laden
I’ll put his beard in a vice
And twist it really tight
So some hairs get pulled out
Take a hammer and fix his over bite
Get an America flag tattooed on his for head
And the twin towers on his back
And I’ll shave his head but leave the beard
And take nine eleven-inch screws
And work all through the night
And screw one in each calf
And one in each foot
And one in each thigh
And one in each gluteous
And one in one eye
And one in each hand
And then dance around him throwing onions at him