Treason, Rats &
drupe eyes.
tapping fingers. my scalp: a drumroll.
a
nuisance. oh
you fucker,
we smile. grab a glass. lose modesty
we
are together
I bite your nuts.
your tongue
on my stomach
like ivy
your sex-eye searching for
my
unlit
lips
my mind darker than your void
chapter over.
shoot him.
period.
HARDER.
got it, didn't you?
under the cypress trees
we RIP INTO the law of hollow.
perform abstraction with
subtle elasticity
lamplight trail
a smudge of red
tapping fingers. my scalp: a drumroll.
a
nuisance. oh
you fucker,
we smile. grab a glass. lose modesty
we
are together
I bite your nuts.
your tongue
on my stomach
like ivy
your sex-eye searching for
my
unlit
lips
my mind darker than your void
chapter over.
shoot him.
period.
HARDER.
got it, didn't you?
under the cypress trees
we RIP INTO the law of hollow.
perform abstraction with
subtle elasticity
lamplight trail
a smudge of red
posted by Tasha Klein at 2:31 PM
1 Comments:
If you lived in Canada, you could be our greatest poet. But, then, we are a country of bad poets.
Gary
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