- Michael Totten
The Armed Corpses, always con fidenting
Hi Ho hit men; our shoot sure gamesters,
controlling these strategizing strafe-geist days,
buy byes dye dies souldure struttin’ tin men...
Gluttonous for crimson ribbons
Who runny the obstacle course through
jungle thickets and thatches in pursuit
of Easter egg baskets nestled full with purple hearts
under peasant created, blind booty-d crushed, kirches.
Always underfaithful, forever inconsistent, perpetually
setting afire the splinters in other youmens, while
logs lash and blind and drive our own visions to
endlessly bloodgeoning vistas.