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humiliating dirge

corey feldman reads a concerned tom green several of his favorite selections from mein kampf


i am laughed at as i make oatmeal in the middle of the night

i was born may 31

that's walt whitman's birthday, 15 minutes before midnight just 
as the doctor was pouring out his dramatic coffee on my gooey 
body to wash me off and i dove into the toilet with cord still 
attatched and slithered into it where i met a strange man in the
sewer who raised me and cooked my umbilical cord to eat with 
teriyaki in a pan all the while teaching me how to knit and kill

then one day all these people began flushing their toilets and 
i was flushed out of the sewer while asleep in a rowboat where 
i floated down the street, my eyes were useless for i had lived
underground, little dim pockets of translucent skin,and the boat
floated down the busy street and right into the back of a truck
that was going to mexico, where i finally woke up laying in a 
catholic church draped in flowers and knick-knacs with pretty bearded 
nuns poking and prodding my soft body with stale tortillas

i began screaming and thrashing around, when i was placed into 
a coffin and buried alive.

so now here i am and it's quite a story, but who can fall in love
with a man who is part salamander, part human, and that is my 
final burden to carry, my eyes however have evolved and i can 
now see the color red

well it's done, an entire barrel

it looks like swampwater and i dumped all the stinking herbs 
and wormwood and anise root or whatever into a ravine behind
the graveyard 

while i do not understand the concept of traffic laws and 
numbers i have perfected an absinthe recipe tasting like 
chlorophyll and windex but a single sip sends you into 
revolutions (add sweet and low for a gentle taste

and yes, i am drunk 

even though they were pointing while i was dragging the 
barrel up the hill in the wagon they were really jealous 
of my absinthe besides me having a bag on my head with a 
big smiley face drew on it

i got drunk under the bridge and spray painted a nekkid lady

so now i sit here whittling and it's raining and guzzling 
my foul swill laughter through the light fixtures

i heard this story about some gypsies who stole their baby
and replaced it with a lusty spidermonkey armed with a small
the mother opened the crib to check and the thing dives out and 
slashes one of her eyes
the gypsies stayed awhile, they transformed the highway boy
into a highway girl with this strange pink frog covered in 
palpating veins
and the urchins were addicted to cocaine for a while, it was
in those bottles of brown soda they were peddling under
the docks for 3 cents each
we had the militia run them out
i wont even tell you what they did to them

vulgar nightime nursry rime
(or greeting card epitaph
little jimmy weighing in at a good 900 pound at age 3 was 
an eating machine.
he'd eat boxes of macaroni and cheese without neither 
cooking it nor taking it out of the package.
he also ate all the dog food while listening to his 
favorite soft rock station on the radio in the old 
broken car in the bedroom.
all the poor dogs went hungry that night.
so they ganged up and ate poor jimmy and licked the 
butter off his pink little bones.
then the dogs had an orgy in the mess they had made 
and threw up the food and ate it all over again.
i was there, masquerading as a dog.
the affair proceeded smoothly

tonight i sleep under the bridge in the ivory tower 
with my eyes glowing like urinal cakes 

my name is laugh at me because misery is funny
its just a grafitti moniker 
laugh at me has died 
laugh at me is only an object that can feel pain
i am a wind up doll
my life is desolation
wah wah wah im so sad 
everyday i wake up from dreams and am forced to realize nothing, 
just the walls, the voices, void, boredom
i cling to the trees with my teeth
i am on no fuel, coasting through some sallow field of dead 
grass in a tired car
when love is gone the soul is cast back into the fire
solitude is agony, poverty is agony
all that's left is the music on the radio
alright, another lover to nail me to the cross
my name is laugh at me because i seek love but find only 
grzzzly perdition
i crave wine, my soul thirsts, my soul slakes, i am dry 
and cracked and sleep under the thorns chewing on dead 
crabs in my mouth
today i must go to my employment for queer schizophrenic
crack heads class
and learn how not to spontaniously ejaculate when i see 
something pretty
i am placed in a cage that outlines my body and has two 
iguanas in that slash and whip and chew my tepid skin to 
keep the lust drawn back
right now they bite my balls
i read paradise lost in my empty room and sometimes have 
the stregnth to wonder when i died and everything started
to make noise and look threatening
violins wail
yes! i have slept with the insects, human and otherwise! 
i am misery! i am the marionette of my own sadistic dead
soul! laugh at me! laugh at me! 
*crowd roars and flings headless chickens that bleed and 
scurry madly about
indeed my visions grim but i am only a flourish in the night
a painful groan in early morning door hinge fatigue
waking up in the morning is the worst thing that can happen to a person

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