r.a.p. ferreira – abomunist manifesto lyrics
abomunist manifesto
the abomunist manifesto, bob kaufman
the abomunist manifesto
bomkauffer, the cough bomber
from the cough bomber to bomkauf, word
abomunists join nothing but their hands or legs, or
other same
abomunists spit anti+poetry for poetic reasons and
frink
abomunists do not look at pictures painted by
presidents and unemployed prime ministers
in times of national peril, abomunists, as reality
americans, stand ready to drink themselves to
death for their country
abomunists do not feel pain, no matter how much it
hurts
abomunists do not use the word square except when
talking to squares
abomunists read newspapers only to ascertain their
abominubility
abomunists never carry more than fifty dollars in
debts on them…
abomunists do not write for money; they write the
money itself
abomunists believe only what they dream only after
it comes true
abomunist children must be reared abominubly
abomunist poets, confident that the new literary
form “foot+printism” has freed the artist of
outmoded restrictions, such as: the ability to
read and write, or the desire to communicate, must
be prepared to read their work at dental colleges
embalming schools, homes for unwed mothers
homes for wed mothers, insane asylums, sane
asylums, u.s.0. canteens, kindergartens, and county
jails. abomunists never compromise their
rejectionary philosophy…
abomunism’s main function is to unite the soul with oatmeal cookies
abomunists love love, hate hate, drink drinks, smoke smokes, live lives, die deaths
abomunist writers write nothing, or they write in writing
abomunist poetry, in order to be compleatly understood, should be eaten… except on fast days, slow days, and mornings of executions
if abomunist could be a color, they’d be green. if so, they’d be going around telling everyone to go
uncrazy abomunists crazy unabomunists, these proxy kicky tricks, you know what i’m talkin’ ’bout
psychometric poets two heads are better than none
selling middle names to impotent personnel managers
giving children brightly wrapped candy fathers
we’re on to you
we’re on to you
we’re on to you
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