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Array
(
[sid] => 60181
[catid] => 1
[aid] => mick
[title] => vixen
[time] => 2004-08-15 03:21:42
[hometext] => Oh real pinkos
[bodytext] => vixen (poem) All maids hang over Like a vixen like the God Smokes are from steels on fires Bullets are corpses on pins With maids The tasks are wrong from rights They are vixen Peerless as pearls but numb is They have no laws to run in They are poisons in rums Sparks in urns Falsehoods in all foods are tang Lives are slaps that face the turns No more days One cruel name Among tiger in ages And tears Real pinkos Bullets are corpses with pins When their hands are opened There are still torsions On their gloves Red in colours Like dirty paints On rain bows with darks Bloods All bugs No redbuds are here WE are true heroes Pinkos Has sign to kill Dumb *** with foolish hands But we are ants Guns control the ends Lick down on laps Are the hanky pans? Oh pinko are! Kick the fleas in ears Sounds are clear Democracy has screws Pinkos are spirals for years Spatter waters like bloods To wet our spats that own Spring some cool fluids In justices and man s living fields Lives could be strained as water on bows But not bloods More vixens are living on Bloods are for royal bonds Today we put up easily But who tear up our tears All maids are mad in films Gold are thick and thin Bloods are for good bonds But whores Lick down on laps Are you hanky pans? Oh real pinkos by Cheung shun sang=cauchy3 [comments] => 2 [counter] => 222 [topic] => 6 [informant] => cauchy3 [notes] => Moderator 9 8/15/04 Bleep word [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 0 [ratings] => 0 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => AngryPoetry )
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