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Your socks are wet,
You’re starting to sweat,
Why would I be sweating, it’s cold out MAN!
Because you layered your clothing,
…Like a good boy.
Headlights emerge at the end of the tunnel,
Hug the wall, Hide the funnel!!!
Make eye contact slowly,
Just enough to let them know you mean business,
And that they better drive on,
You reach the spot,
Stop sauntering (well, you can keep sauntering, as long as you stay in the same position)
Kneel down slowly,
Open the backpack,
Shake the can,
A madness fills your brain,
Maybe it’s the intoxicating (and DEFINITELY poisonous) fumes
But maybe…just maybe….
It’s the art,
Stencil that shit man,
(Free hand stopped being cool in 2010)
Jets, penguins, gigantic monsters, little stick men shouting ‘SAVE OUR COMMUNITY’,
But most of all…
Maybe it’s the fumes…
It’s the triangles.