Untitled

trouble looms as the bullshitters gloom
beneath the heavy skin
haste makes way today as the doogooders play
the skin now pulls from the attic
the skys turn grey as the atmosphere relays
a singing smell of crispy fibers
emotions float through smoke of bullshitters at bay
spacecadets say the evil will not delay the desinagration
almost done with the completetion of evolution
death will not be delayed as all evil has concluded
the existance of the bullshitters.

By Caroline Jones

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