Monkey spoke, “What do you know of the hungry ghost?"
Looking to my shoulder, “Next to nothing, would be hoax”
"Numpty folk, spinning tales when something croaks.”
But subtly in humdrum, every cunt invokes.
Repugnant host's, gulping up from the nocuous
Microscopic chops - ventriculus bottomless
Sunken oculus, shoulders uphold an obelisk
None passes, just ash through its oesophagus
‘Typhlotic' wanders, swaddled webs of discontent
Appetence betrayed their very nature into this repent
They savour only later and labour over this intent
Craving’s only apex milliseconds, then it brings decent
Decay laid waste, life succumbed to dumpster
Summoned when your sundries couldn’t quite cut mustard
Say a prayer offer up a serving from your hunches
The Monkey suffer’s, the ‘Preta’ who walk amongst us


First world beggary, heavy rests their treasury
Lechery that never lets up, in the debauchee
A just tragedy, reluctant to touch their agony
Looking passed apogee's atrophy come maggoty
Its fast or feast, preach, black listing or amnesty
Paddling back between ecstasy and malady
Balancing, Monkey, I can handle my gadgetry
Sampling the faculties not entangled in vanity
Its sad really… fallacy deep in fantasy
Pitiful to live for satisfaction intangibly
Necromancy's advance once your back is free
Every chance it seeks, passive when you have it beat
Radical, emphatic speech, ragged on the pageantry
None more enslaved than those that preach chastity
Pac feeds anxiously racking up the numbers,
Oh, Monkey suffer! the ‘Preta’ who strut amongst us




I’ve denied the problem prolonging demonic homage
Popular drama oblongata in bondage
'Stockholmed’ hostage, despondent to blockage,
Cosmically I wallow in the solace of a golem
I misrepresented the excessive as a necessity
Life without intensity eventually gets the best of me
The present being my enemy, unfriendly to everything
Detesting every me with that special kind of reverie
Remedy the emptiness, anything’s distraction
Static in the background, neglecting of 'what happens’
Habitual unease, continual one needs
Ritual pawn piece of a cyclical wanting
Every time I find my self alone it like’s to punish
Monkey don’t leave me, the silence I cannot stomach
Offer me prayer, and utterance by the hundreds
For I too suffer, a Preta who walk amongst yiz