Temptation Craig’s Appeal

Very Decriptive.

Anthropomorphic Warehouse

20 years later, I emerge from Jail, amazed at the pewter welkin,
hoping to water a fern. Like many of you, I’ve chased my parents
through the sewers of New York, pitched camp in abandoned pantries
with enormous men named Slib, been echoed up at from the 8th floor landing
to spare me the fucking histrionics alright; I have managed a boxlike head
that tilts this way and that, was dropped as a boy down chutes labeled
and, with the help of my trusty RC helicopter, I’ve put a dent or two
in the New Atheist machine.

And despite a hazy, exceedingly strange couple months
a long time ago in which I procured several plants for my office
through acts of stomach-churning brutality, I empathize
with my fellow man. All I ask for is a fresh start,
a set of choppers that aren’t…

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