Les années terribles

And as I lay breathing in the Oozing pit,
My mind fixed on That festering Solenoid,
swimming in a pool of bluey golden pus,
My guts chewed in half by the Green Siberian,
That an hour ago did me the ultimate honour,
Slapping my cheekbones in two and two,
Blood flavoured Deep Pink Choclate,
Oh how sweetly she melts, how meltily sweet,
That shape shifting sorcerer, that once had
the temerity to be me, maybe only to,
Irk the Brown wine into rebelling against
The sweet walls of my tummy aches
Doggerel I am well versed at, Nay, Give me not that,
Thou hast lost thy soul To my Pet Pomeranian
A Sin that in its inanity baffles me to the worlds end,
Wherein The seeker, trenchant, sets out,
To be Cosmo Kramer.
Amen