Guest post today from my fella. While you’re waiting for the Warriors to finish off the Cavs (sorry, LeBron. I love you, though), consider for a moment the Mervyn Peake-esque talent with which I live. (He wrote it for me.)
Warning: this is disgusting.
A rug it is and a slug it is And like a moldy plug it is: this ugly bug-love I have for you. Breath deep of its salty musk And choke with profound disgust At the lush rottenness of the cusk that fills my reeking husk: I’m brimming with putrid fish-rot love for you. Can you hear, my earless dear?!? It’s me! Your beast filled with yeast, sweating his pungent grease, sliming you up a bubbling feast. It’s a redolant and sloppy love for you. Don’t you get it?!? I’m sick for you! I’m gross for you! I’d lick some shit’s whitlows for you! You’re mine, my decrepit and wizened ghoul of love. As to me? I’m a hippo! I’m a pig! I’m only happiest when I dig in your twilligs and your brigs! Of course, I’m drowning in this cream-thick wabe of love. I mean, how could I win? How does one even begin when he’s tied and trapped In a windowless den? Oh, what a dreadful horror story of love. -kegen dean benson