Ripped Raped and Robbed

Guess what you old fuck, they open at 6am now, but Haydn was on the radio and the bums are all here.

I followed my hero to this place at sunrise when thoughts of a woman woke me in the middle of the night. I opened a book of poems next to my bed and the first thing I read took place at 4:30 in the morning, more or less the time I cracked open the book. the next thing was about Phillipes, so I threw on the pants and headed down. 

 I got there right before they  opened, and there was an eclectic pallet of bums waitng already. when the doors opened tehy jamed over to the “misc. Items” Line to get several cups of coffee which now sells at 10 cents a cup (still not bad), and anything else their coins would buy.

A few cups of coffee and a foreseeable life time of sorrow and dirt. Its 6:30 am I got the only table with gods sunny cock beating on it, 80 degrees thorugh the window and air conditioning. 

last time I was here I met a woman, her face was bloated and red, her breath smelled like simple green

“I’ve been ripped raped and robed”

I didn’t know what to say to that, and it made me feel like a cold pice of metal, but how am I supposed to relate.

There’s no premium on pain. I’ve got mine she’s got hers, nobody’s is worthless.

A black guy just walked with a tough ass bitch wearing a tank top and camo pants.She looks like a viking, she could probably kick his ass, but instead she opened the door for him.

~ by bungholebunghole on July 14, 2009.