Incoming

Hold tight the hangers,
wet cement swimmers front crawlin through their manors,
eye-stabbers neck-wringers skin-picking scammers,
I watched them all sliding ladders
from the sky meet your suicidal gooey-eyed attackers,
the little wet brain splatters on the sheets,
from the shoot-outs that reached between your ears as you sleep,
got you shook,
I love it when shit gets obese so you can slash a hole and let the fat trickle
through the streets.