X ~ Hen goes apeshit

Note note note: I here, as ever, attempt to undermine and ridicule
all the attempts of men and women to find grounds and support for their
hatred of and contempt towards one another. It is a foul and deadly
thing to think of Hitler and refuse to believe that he might have been
any of us, that there is something in every person teeming to be a
monstrous, wrothful god. So then:

'Hen goes apeshit'

Hen
curled up and became one with the crawl
Hen
raging with flowers and rubies against those
who to he seemed to choose
outright, paralysing idiocy as a purpose
who eke out enemies from every vein
who mine them
because the greater in number their enemies
the more they love themselves.
Hen
indulged in ironic racism to stir them up
draw them out
"If you want an enemy, pigs,
here I am, hogs," he said,
"Enough of those damn Chinks," he mocked
"and the blacks; send them back to Africa
to their AIDS; bloody leprous Nazis on cackhoof
Women belong in whorehouses, heathens,
and did I mention those wretched Jews
moneygrubbin bratfishhoses with skanktanks
Lock them in a room with Arab faggots."

Hen
sat back with Assam and waited
for the idiots to come breaking balls
relishing the chance to hump their virtue
Readying the blank bone of his knuckles
for their foaming faces.

Lord!
Grant Hen the serenity to accept what he cannot change. Never mind the
strength and the wisdom.

When the beats took a while to bruise
due to his lack of fame,
he added, "By the way,
Hitler was a *man*, you gibbon-legged posies in tights.
He could have shaved that black mark off
any time he wanted."
a breath and a roar of men, particularly men
greatly aroused by the pornographic depiction
of their own glorious purity,
gagging on Hen's fat, greedy filth,
Pretty tasteless, men, pretty tasteless.

Lord!
Grant Hen the serenity to accept what he cannot change. Never mind the
strength and the wisdom.

Hen
beckoned the scorching
of his slight, brittle body full of holes.
"I'm an insult collector, come on,
I'm writing a book on it."
and for further encouragement, Hen added,
"Where's English grammar at?
To ingrate muckhell with all of that,
Load of gudgeon guts, lardtarts,
Hardline tories should all be raped and
torn apart with sewing scissors, mindless
blowfuck kumquats."

That's political, Hen - pretty it up, boy,
he told himself - get back to racism and sexism
They love that more - you know.
"Before I do, time out to say
I do not address this rage to anyone
who is simply hurt
or wounded.
Fates bless you all, poor kids. I wish
I were serene enough to leave you alone."

Lord!
Grant Hen the serenity to accept what he cannot change. Never mind the
strength and the wisdom.

a thousand grossly named alliances
formed in the slagheap of his cup
called themselves defenders
liberators, anti-fascists,
nonsense terms now they're
hokked over every curb and railing
Outrage!
Desecration!
Demoralisation!
Trivialisation!
Monstrous!
Vile!

They named him Anti-Semite
"I am," he said, "and so are you, narwhol."
They said he hated Jews.
"Well, they're pretty easy to screw over,
and I won't say I owe them particular respect,
but I only really *hate* the fathead Jews
who hate Arabs, and the blubbery Americans
who think they're pretty great
The Americans are as farcical as ever."
(Some roared approval - Hen
frowned upon his mistake.)
"I hate haters. Yes,
it's a hopeless case.
A terminal condition."

Lord!
Grant Hen the serenity to accept what he cannot change. Never mind the
strength and the wisdom.

"Call me traitor!
Call me traitor!
To be traitor to thee renders me
a little less grubby, veiled mumps sores cancers
and the holocaust was a bloody joke
God's bloody gag - laugh, pusheads, laugh, sickness
Not only that
It's the party trick of every loser who
has ratbag arguments and creep to stake
Discrimination is also a joke in every form
a joke on our vulnerability and pomp. Ugh.
I
am Hitler Mk II and this time I'll get it right.
I'll execute every lacetapeworm who
makes personal opportunities
out of mistakes and others flesh
and who'll be left? Just me and those
I choose to excuse, moos."

Lord!
Grant Hen the serenity to accept what he cannot change. Never mind the
strength and the wisdom.

"Sure, call me apologist
harbinger, sympathiser, whatever
you limp fat slug crackers with piles and boils
and rotting otters Ha! Mwah!!"
Hen was out of control but then,
what isn't? Who isn't smoking
for a poison against the abuse
of the condition?
The fagend ditch battle of the age.

Meanwhile some war cascaded
Some hundred thousands were killed
(but this is conveniently ignored
until a death is a good card to pull
out of the hat, when your cleanliness
comes into focus.)

"Oh you clean, clean beings
washed and lathered in the soap
of your enemy's fat.
Why not go further and call yourselves
victims?"
Death is your idol,
Gore is your holy book,
Have my head in your parade of divine violence
brainstem leeches on perverse slut
faghag,"
he began kneeling
Hen
peeled their ten-tackles from his
reddenned, raised skin, squelching,
"Urchins. Limpets. Wrecks."
Shysters.

Lord!
Grant Hen the serenity to accept what he cannot change. Never mind the
strength and the wisdom.

Hen
confonted by a dark-skinned man in a silk scarf
who he couldn't help but like
felt guilty.
Hen
shook the hand of Hate
on the empty bridge to modesty
and with a smear of the bile Hate added,
"God bless our partnership, dear animal and friend.
I've slobbered on your page, I hope you're sated."

Said Hen, "Dear Hate,
those other men, mostly men,
who don't respect you verbally
when they munch on your thighs happily
Well they haven't loved the comedy
of the partnership as much as I.
As a matter of fact
they'll swear its deadly serious.
They think comedy
should be good for their health!"
Stub it out on a good skin ashtray, boys.
Your own, for once.

Hen
became good again.
He wrote nicely.

And the moral? The slogan?
"Before you drink from the vaginal flagon
Armour your rearing jade love dragon."