Corporate Vessels Don’t Take Toxic Cargo – Keko Prijatelj

November 27, 2022

Trouble at the entrance

 

He is alright. Let/him in
I’m not sure if she’ll be okay with that. It’s/her party
Oh please, there are plenty of other people here, they all absolutely love him! Come on! Ask/them! Frigid ponce

 

 

Cis white male meets a hot pregnant female of unknown origin

 

I want to cum inside you and facialize your fetus
I hope it’s a girl

 

 

Every woman, every war criminal

 

What distance
How much time
To turn them into sexy adventures

 

 

The rich took my lines

 

They left me merely one, but I’ll make the best of it
So I can take another one on credit
And now the gluttonous turning point: either I go to jail or become

 

Adapting to the eely era of now, I’ve started a GoFuckMe campaign and changed
The title to: Bezos erased my 4th line because he doesn’t want me
At the Met Gala
I’m finally enjoying inflation

 

 

An interior and an exterior night meet in boredom

 

Shadows of forgotten objects surprise
Me in my room
Alcohol, my midnight coffee
Once said: all good things come to those who burst
It’s not his to care about
The background movement
Nor he’s ever scared as I am now

 

Be calm, the shadows say, you’ll get drunk tomorrow
With friends
And acquaintances, and many asses will be
There to grab and mock
Refrain from masturbation

 

A worn-out pen turning into a worm
Squeezes out a panic sperm
Stupid sperm, forsaken one
Scribbles a plethora of nonsense
With the wish to just leave one day and never
Come back

 

A slow suicide by cigarettes
In silence, wailing
For the possibility of a drunk
Redneck with white socks
In his eye sockets
With an eclipse in each orbit

 

All the grand leaders were grand bullies
No diagnosis please, just portray
The most dinosaur-privateer
Voyage my birth chart has ever ventured into

 

The ugly sorceress clung to my lost
Beauty like a demon
If you’re there God
I’m so sorry I had to settle with
Satan’s always been there

 

Tears are little jesters
Little jesters liquid jesters
Passerines sip the will from my navel

 

 

Drunk as fuck, and imagine, I could’ve fucked you while writing this

 

Fuck your pets, your online presence
Alone, I drink a weight of a person
Who will die with me, with my snort
Abyss, revive my sleep, my snort futility
Now what? I don’t have the option
Of a darling who comes
All handy and wristful and
Stops the hiccup.
I don’t won’t impose, but I’m ready Lord
Please stop the hiccup

 

 

To the pious people of pronouns

 

If I were an atheist
I would be a buddhist
Have a vineyard go fishing
A smokeable garden
I’m a platonist
With sophists keeping all the riches
Whisky is costly
And so is suffering

 

 

There’s a difference between a warning and a threat as there is between instinct and will

 

I’m a social media savage
Please don’t put me in a zoo
My vengeance will outgrow an elephant
If it will not have reached you
You’ll see a spider
Slaughtering all that flies

 

 

Thinking about the title for my imaginary book

 

(With a picture of me standing nude by the window and staring into the camera outside)
Poems from the Window
Stoney Landscape and Flower of Stupidity Under the Sun
Fuck You, Buy My Book
Suck My Cock, by My Book
If You Have Ever Been a Fellow, You Owe Me
Grinning from the Gutter
I Hate Foes, but I Love Friends
Don’t Buy My Book. I Want People from the Next Century to Pity Me, Admire My Resilience, and Ridicule Your Narrowness

 

 

Sun!

 

Sea.
Gull.
Ship on the sea.
Sea.