Awarewolf and Other Crhymes Against Humanity (Vot Could Be Verse?): A spasm of 49 vitriolic verses, hellacious haiku, pustulent poems, satanic sonnets and odious odes: 3rd Edition
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Description
We all hate poetry, right? But we hate it a little less when it's hellgrown, twisted and wicked. Epic, even.
If this book were a pie, it would contain more than a measly four and twenty blackbirds, But it's not a pie, it's a spasm. Which is another word for pie, in a language you don't know. In fact it's even more than a spasm. It's a devil's banquet of adults-only offal comprising almost exactly nine and forty (49) satanic sonnets, vitriolic verses and odious odes. Excerpts below:
AWAREWOLF
I came upon a golem
“encountered†one might say
eating dust as golems must
all bloody, muddy day.
WHO PUT THE ANAL IN ANALYSE
If all of the dead numbered more than the living
would reincarnation be viewed with misgiving?
Would the dead grit their teeth while waiting to rise?
(Oh who put the anal in analyse?)
THE WOLVES THAT WAS
Once a month beneath the moon
Their evil crimes recur
The wolves that was is incorrect
It is the wolves that were.
CIGARETTE BLUES
my teeth are yeller, my teeth are grey and brown
my teeth are yeller, my teeth are grey and brown
frickin’ dentist, Lord, richest man in town
SHALL I SING TO THEE OF HATRED?
As you feed, the gentle drops of blood
caress thy cheeks like crimson tears, my love
calling forth sweet morphogenetic memories
of all the times we’ve slain together
the line of carcasses
stretching to eternity.
WARNING! Immature content. Unsuitable for adults.
The Pact
Do You Believe in Mermaids?
Who Put the Anal in Analyse?
How the Wizard Lost His Mojo
The Riddler
Drunken-Hearted Man
One Wonders Why Oneness
The Wolves That Was
Cigarette Blues
Awarewolf
The Ogre of Broken Hill
If Humans Are So Smart
Prey to Slay Today
140 Bird-Brained Stupidities
Patricidal
Limiting Limblessness
What is and What Will Never Be
Tea With Entropy
Divine Masturbation
Sex Now and Then
In The Office of The Lost & Found
Always Right
Global Warming’s Habit-Forming
My Old Friend Zorro
Time for a Higher Orbit
Us and Them
Verisimilitude (Baked Liverwurst)
Written on the Sky
Left is Right
Day of Hammers
Tuesday: Size Matters But...
If My Thighs
Second Coming: in the Neighbourhood
The Traitor Word
Dark Sprite
On Writing for Posterity
Meditations in the Garden of the Beauvallon Bay Hotel
Childish Limerick
Disappointment
Not Easy Being Me
Dark Before the Dawn
The Secret of No Pain
Actually, Anne Actuary
Nightmare City
Killing Floor
Reading the Runes
The Prison of My Own Devising
Meaningless Crap, Illustrated
Shall I Sing to Thee Of Hatred?
Higher Quality Beatings
If this book were a pie, it would contain more than a measly four and twenty blackbirds, But it's not a pie, it's a spasm. Which is another word for pie, in a language you don't know. In fact it's even more than a spasm. It's a devil's banquet of adults-only offal comprising almost exactly nine and forty (49) satanic sonnets, vitriolic verses and odious odes. Excerpts below:
AWAREWOLF
I came upon a golem
“encountered†one might say
eating dust as golems must
all bloody, muddy day.
WHO PUT THE ANAL IN ANALYSE
If all of the dead numbered more than the living
would reincarnation be viewed with misgiving?
Would the dead grit their teeth while waiting to rise?
(Oh who put the anal in analyse?)
THE WOLVES THAT WAS
Once a month beneath the moon
Their evil crimes recur
The wolves that was is incorrect
It is the wolves that were.
CIGARETTE BLUES
my teeth are yeller, my teeth are grey and brown
my teeth are yeller, my teeth are grey and brown
frickin’ dentist, Lord, richest man in town
SHALL I SING TO THEE OF HATRED?
As you feed, the gentle drops of blood
caress thy cheeks like crimson tears, my love
calling forth sweet morphogenetic memories
of all the times we’ve slain together
the line of carcasses
stretching to eternity.
WARNING! Immature content. Unsuitable for adults.
The Pact
Do You Believe in Mermaids?
Who Put the Anal in Analyse?
How the Wizard Lost His Mojo
The Riddler
Drunken-Hearted Man
One Wonders Why Oneness
The Wolves That Was
Cigarette Blues
Awarewolf
The Ogre of Broken Hill
If Humans Are So Smart
Prey to Slay Today
140 Bird-Brained Stupidities
Patricidal
Limiting Limblessness
What is and What Will Never Be
Tea With Entropy
Divine Masturbation
Sex Now and Then
In The Office of The Lost & Found
Always Right
Global Warming’s Habit-Forming
My Old Friend Zorro
Time for a Higher Orbit
Us and Them
Verisimilitude (Baked Liverwurst)
Written on the Sky
Left is Right
Day of Hammers
Tuesday: Size Matters But...
If My Thighs
Second Coming: in the Neighbourhood
The Traitor Word
Dark Sprite
On Writing for Posterity
Meditations in the Garden of the Beauvallon Bay Hotel
Childish Limerick
Disappointment
Not Easy Being Me
Dark Before the Dawn
The Secret of No Pain
Actually, Anne Actuary
Nightmare City
Killing Floor
Reading the Runes
The Prison of My Own Devising
Meaningless Crap, Illustrated
Shall I Sing to Thee Of Hatred?
Higher Quality Beatings
