Buncha fucks always queued up,
mouths gaping, just waitng for
the moment to jump, when that
right ripple comes across
your lateral line.

And few do.

Here we are like
a (very) shallow
stream, anyone
can plunge in,
but bears lurk
on the banks.

CG doesn't lurk as often.








Watch out. You're showing poetic tendencies!

For here, it's like
the piss dribble
after a leak.

gotta shake it.

Tendencies? I think Liver is a grandmaster of fucktardese poetry.

No matter how much you shake and dance,
The last few drops end up in your pants.