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Shankaz’eroth: The Dead God of Bitter Verse

Shankanalia 6Well, hello New Year. As ever the new yule brings with it an identical blend of sunny optimism and bleak defeatism as the previous endless year. Fantastic. I’m cheerfully pinballing between genuine enthusiasm and cut-your-throat frustration. I’m certain that the unreasonable expectation others place on this time of the year drags me under with their incipient despair as they prepare to fail in the banal promises to the universe. I dislike New Year’s Resolutions.

So it’s time for another miniature anthology of @shankanalia Twitter verse. I tap these out whenever I’m getting too angry during the day to actually accomplish anything. It’s looks set to be a productive end of the financial year. Hurray / kill me now.

Shankaz’eroth: The Dead God of Bitter Verse

Inappropriate Punctuation
I’ve got a 5 bullet plan for improvement
No, not bullet points
They’re bullets, one for each of you
And one for myself

Too Touchy Feely for Meely
If I beat you
To within an inch of your life
Would you hug me
As I pulled out my knife?
If I bled you
Of all of your blood
Would you just die?

It Am An Sale
Bumbling pygmies
Fill the streets.
Fat footed,
Over mediocre thrills
And plastic filth.
Leggings stretched into unitards.

Imaginary Deja Vu
Brain funked
and gashed with
Thoughts and memories
Of a time never happened;
Trapped in the
Bite of neuronal flare
and wake
and sleep
and wake confused.
Basic Lies
Reassure others about
Their incompetence
By pretending we are as inept
As they
But it’s a lie.
We’re good
You’re just shit.

Trust Exercise
So I delegate
To shift the weight
And share the work.
In my error
I asked you:
A mistake,
I see.
Take it back
Or let you fail,
And who’s to blame?

Happy Places
Fucking hate
Cuntiferous rending
Vile despised anti-human
Spittle-coated bastardy
Viscous cuntmongers.
Gin time.

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