oh classic gentlemen

say your prayers

to the wind of prostitution

to your faces, and rex complexes

riddle my breast

full of the oppressed puss.



o gentlemen, with your fish

that you surround, all around

and you man, will always point

your fishes at me.



but i will always exist

because i always exist

damn good too



the rat race begins

the fat face stings

i hold the fresh pink baby

with a smile.

i slice off those rosy cheeks

because i feel so thirsty



and oedipus rex complexes

... riddle my closed bloated breast.