"NFL Concussion Protocol: The Tragedy" by Kim Cancer

 

 

NFL Concussion Protocol: The Tragedy

The fucking novel by Kim Cancer... OUT NOW! 

DOWNLOAD FOR FREE: CLICK HERE 

SYNOPSIS:

Like many former professional athletes, Jim Everett has been struggling since his retirement from the NFL. But when Jim and his family move into a house with a gruesome past, the Everett family will face challenges like they never encountered before... The demons and ghosts that are real!

 

Featuring appearances by Lisa "The Cheerleader," James "The Prison Guard," Mr. Wilson "The Neighbor," Junior Seau, The "Tibetan," The "East Coast Prowler," Saint Euphemia, and Jesus Christ. 

Demons ripping apart inside

Demons tearing apart
inside of head
As if it
were a
loaf of
bread

Wine dripping from lips
Poetry dead

Bird
Spirals
hits
window
sky
falls
down
shatters

Pages torn from book
Empty words

in absence
when everything is lost
they realize the paradise
was within
in there heart pounding
the people they loved
the people they screwed over
while they had everything
millions of dollars
still an empty can
head hits the wall
throwing up in misery

What lies behind the beauty
Open door
Realize the emptiness
When away from
Distraction
Eyes fixate
Angels will appear
When one becomes blind
Tear out your eyes
For your sight to have meaning

Smiles dripping
From fe(a)ces

People drown upon the misery
Demons drown upon the glory

Homo-sapiens unaware
Of their demonic nature
They go to church
Pray
Then, the cycle restarts

Angels within
but their choice
Vegas
The city
of

flame
rises higher

clouds wait

people kill

with a change of context
an alternate perception
a realization of what morality is
the story, the poem
will hold a different ending

For now
the bottle breaks
dripping red

demons ripping apart head
cluster headaches

sun fades
and starts to set
moon is half full
stars absent of light

millions trapped inside head
banging against the walls
of the mind

sky fell
shattered like glass

No longer blue
world’s colors drained
Like water flushed from
Toilet and into the sewer

Full of diseases,
Contaminated

the river filled with shit

Why is the blood of the winged splattered?
species no longer high

Passed out unconscious
Woke up to little light

Demons screaming
still tearing inside




Sina is friends with transvestite ninjas.

Cop Light

She got ran through by the Brit marines. They pulled her in with their Apollo physiques and documentary accents. She told me she felt ashamed. I told her “I am not a puritan and I can’t say if it was wrong what you did or what they did.” I said that so she didn’t think I was judging her, if she thought that, I think I would loose her. She told me it was wrong because “none of them loved her.” She said she was “a joke to them.” They were soulless I knew that much, they were begging chick mouths with out stomachs, bottomless pits of wanting and taking, never giving, pure psychopathic Id. She thought talking to me would patch up her souls hymen where her innocents was leaking out. She wants me to be a little boy, brother and a father, the clean male relationships. I thought of my black Tom cat. When the mother of his kitten died he let the kittens suckle on his empty nipples. I am an empty nipple that cant fill your stomach. All day I tie noses in my skull hanging every memory of human road kill, and floating bodies I fished out of the drink. Why would I help her get her dignity back just so she can loose it again down the road. It’s good its gone early. I should toughen her up. But she looks like a kid, I want to be soft and silly around kids. Her mom would fuck for drugs while she was in the bed. She made me think of my momma’s eyes swollen shut Vaseline tears covered the top of her blue black brown face, her cotton filled cheeks, she drank blood it dripped dried on the side. She couldn’t express here self her face was stretched to the limit. Cops took pictures, dad incoherently denied unrelated matters, Black Sabbath continued to played in the back ground. Cop lights danced off blinds, broken glass Moms face, I was glad she couldn't see me, I think she would have been embarrassed. I can’t stand embarrassing scenes in moves, I change the channel until there over. My dad was now in a cop car banging his head against the window his moth foamed with spit his unblinking eyes glared at me, the flexi glass looked like it was going to give. If his eyes had hands he would of squeezed my head until it popped like a zit. Then they all went away mom, dad, cops. It was me in the house alone. I watched a get smart marathon. No one came home, I didn’t go to school. I went to the library looked at photography books with tits in them, I turned the page and I saw a guy rolling in shit with his dick tied to his feet. People were standing all around him. I learned art is a shocking ritual. The deference between religious ritual and art is that religion summons old gods and demons, art makes new ones, fiction only moments before. Bums came to the library to sleep, masturbate and read weird shit like genealogy books. Maybe they are looking for their name next to someone, anyone, somewhere to go and say with hands out “its me!” Her hands were out I took one, and said “kid what ever you need I will try to do.” “I don’t know much about family but I will treat you like I think one should be, you can tell me when I am wrong.” She didn’t say anything she most likely though I was full of shit, but I think I meant it.

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