My Time, Yer Time

The Gourds

folds and folds of hurling whirling words come spilling out yer hole



dont intellectualize yer eloquent vomit when you rise



now peter had Paul dont have it I have it have it said I



in this rolling glowing growing stolen place that dont belong to me




it aint funny you say ok I had it up to here with you



this giddy little lifetime yer time my time dont agree with you



some temper axes in the fire some sharpen knives upon a stone



some chop up veggies in the hobart some use the bloody robo coup