WORDS

HERE ARE MORE OF MY WORDS, PLEASE READ THEM. PLEASE READ THEM AND GIVE ME MONEY FOR IT.

I AM DYING FOR MONEY, I WOULD LOVE SOME IN EXCHANGE FOR MY WORDS,

My goodness, oh dear dreary me, I work so hard for food and shelter, please Mr. Man, please relieve me of my suffering, pay me for the words I write in the route of my suffrage so that I may suffer no longer.

I promise, sir, I promise! The words will still come with the same ferocity and virility, their same punch or vividity. Virulent with its allure, people will read my stories and flock to my words like rodents to festering garbage.

No no, I mean not to show indignance towards the readers, potential readers, skimmers, acknowledgers of my passion-yet disavowers of my fashion, they know not of my indigence. I have no more judgement than what God has afforded me through scriptures condemning the rich to hell, but I suck the teat of Reaganomics for a sliver of what I am owed.

My words, oh my word, please Mr. Man, pay me for my words so I do not have to sell my ass, pay me for my words so I do not have to sell my soul, please pay me for my words so I do not have to condemn my loved ones to suffer for my success. I beg of you Mr. Man, please, get in touch and touch my heart, metaphorically, though a literal touching of my heart can be arranged for the right price.

If you would like, you may cut me open in any inoperably filthy jaunt and lay thine eyes on my beating chest, and feel its pulsating rhythm, which so drives my words, to your hearts content. Lest I do not awake after such antics I would be more than glad to consummate with your curiosities given my survival be guaranteed after you are satisfied and bloody.

Please Mr. Man, I am so desperate for the givings of money, the food, oh so delicious with how it sustains me, water, oh so refreshing with how I am incapable of surviving without it. Please Mr. Man, please… I will turn the mundane to fantasy if you would only allow me to live, if I am only allowed to awaken to return your great visage back to basics and allow you to take momentary joy in the simplistic needs of your body, so that you may return to your stocks, bonds, and warfare a human person.

I beg of you Mr. Man, please, allow me to suffer for your riches, I need only the taste of it to revitalize my will, if you were to spare your interest in my words, only you would know of my lust for life.