Plastique-Man

Hullo dear Coco, My odourless, colourless, albeit sweet friend Though I neither can see, taste nor feel you, I sense your omnipresent asphyxiating presence Circling around me like a hawk round its prey, closing in... When is the pain going to be over, i wonder? I doubt I can take it any longer I hope This is my final fit, my final bellyache Well go'ed then, come liberate be from all these wordly pains... Let us shake hands gently Let me suck in a whiff of your redolent absence of aroma Ah, the Karma Police is knocking on my door to take me high enough.. With my eyes slightly shut I see... A pretty house and such a pretty garden.

Kinkyville in Queer Junction Lack of morals and what was that thing, ah LOVE. Sweet absence of one, perhaps? Incessant incests embellished with rambunctious rapes Children crying and grown-ups gagging Those little degraded angels How and wherefore have their fair wings G-one? Beautiful pink boys in their bright G-strings make eye to Those O so butch and handsome ladies in blue, Caressing their own macho arms "You new in town, lad?" He need not sweat and fret, my friend As you the innocent-naive, timid, and red-cheeked boy will be another hero, just as bold and outright kinky as any other inhabitant of the Village DRiNK, GET HI