It's stabbing steel toe rubber
with a black greased blade.
It's watching the teeth fly
from her head as I pluck them
out single file.
Paint the sky the size of gigantic and
color blot our boney knees.
Skin graph the force of fuck and
induce labor pains in the spaces between our fingers.
That sticky webbed consistency where the grease
leaks out.
Let me fever bleach your insides so that you might
pass for pure.
Button up the ends of theives
and slide sticks into our demon lovers.
Cover us with in msg, or that orange duck sauce,
and tongue slide the length of our bodies.
Lets smile, chins up, we're clover fuck retarded,
smelling like the fruit fields of yesterday.
Mud-bath desire reached by peeking.
Closet hiding in the off hours of night.
Special glances in the changing room.
Your dad has a gun doesn't he?

12/04/2009