Blast off, Motherfucker!

by Cannibal Kyle

I’m gonna go to the fuckin’ moon.
I’m gonna party with robots and shit.
Make the space girls swoon.
We’ll make Rube Goldberg machines and banter with wit.

I’m gonna party with robots and shit.
Zero gravity robot dance party craze.
We’ll make Rube Goldberg machines and banter with wit.
We’ll spit oil on haters in a glassy eyed haze.

Zero gravity robot dance party craze.
I’ll steal some fuckin’ laser guns and shoot at the Earth.
We’ll spit oil on haters in a glassy eyed haze.
Crazy mechanism with crossed wires, show me what I’m worth.

I’ll steal some fuckin’ laser guns and shoot at the Earth.
Hijack and crash Earths only satellite.
Crazy mechanism with crossed wires, show me what I’m worth.
Howl like drunken fiends under starlight.

Hijack and crash Earths only satellite.
Make the space girls swoon.
Howl like drunken fiends under starlight.
I’m gonna go to the fuckin’ moon.



This alleged hipster has a broken finger stranglehold around the neck of a bottle and in the other, an unpaid smartphone so he looks important. He has been published several times in other literary art’s magazines that no one has ever heard of and, therefore, do not give a shit about.

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