by WillowedCabin
at first I was happy I'm too old for zits. then i got mad that i'm too old for zits
so now i hate you just kiddin
it gave me a chuckle
Like Joyce's "snot-green sea" (at least I think that's the phrase), this has a Post/Modernist conflation of grotesquerie and wit. In this compacted form, it's as though language itself has become a tiny splatter, formless "goop" and shapely "art" getting squinted at like so many nasty, fascinating specks.