Hey, click that link up there, big ol' sweet pie in the sky link that it is, and get whisked away to a death rattle of exuberant fun fun fun. And if you don't believe me, go out tonight, find a dirty ol' creek, take a swig, and taste the gravel on your tongue. It's the same thing, my friend, but don't take my word for it. Ah, before I get swept away in largess. The poem appears below in text format!
death of the girl 3
bang a pot in the kitchen
with spaghetti
and
the flavor
of mushrooms
and a hang dog
look
.
I saw crimson bands
run
race around her face
in
glasses and communion
holy
city of glass
she
eats the rafters of tiny
rooms
lovers
the nothing of fingers bark
and
bang
scratch across the alley
remembered
some
arbitrary
sequins
on the lapel in the closet in the house
with green
paint peeling about moonless
veranda
oh
nights to fall in love
are hot oh gosh
my
my mother shrieks
you fetid
blank sheet of toilet
paper in the
trash can
homeless sleeveless
disdain and
hobo
thrift
toss
me on the floor
spend and spill hours
useless
pastel paints
and
function of the
river folk scabbing
their
bike wounds with acrylic
stick
stuck envy pigs
sailing in truck tops
in the eve
see a man come
upon a woman
like
thrifty and dangerous
and cough in her face the effigy of love
she slammed him
on concrete she tore his limbs
she ate
his stomach and
tossed back
the face
of the face
of crows and lamplight
lightbulbs
burst
I enter the room
.
treat callous and disregard
your
phone and
your television screen
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