At first, the fearful panic so great.
Jesus...no, paralysed from this date?
No more to walk, no more to run,
Life is over, destroyed, now its all done.
I can't feel my legs, a whimper, a sob,
Natural movement, taken, I have been robbed.
How did it happen, attacked by a brute?
It occured to him then, a terrible truth.
Legs were fine, fit for marching bands,
Someone had come and stolen his hands.
Rob, really now, get a fucking job. You're everything thats wrong with America today.
ReplyDeleteI didn't fucking write this.
ReplyDeleteOh fan-fucking-tastic. You have gone insane.
ReplyDeleteYou've got to watch out for the hand stealers.
ReplyDeleteThems words in Beatles songs AND the Holy Bible - the unabridged, un-fucked with version - about one and the same.
To write about hand stealers is an observation most holy. To experience hand stealers is Divine [shit-swallowing, dead as a doornail kind].
literary genius
ReplyDelete