I poem the hands off the men who did what they know they did. I poem a nazi i went to college with in the jaw until his face hangs a bone tambourine. So i bury the poem in the river & the body in the fire. My mentor said once a poem can be whatever you want it to be. I mail a poem to 3/4ths of the senate, they choke off the scent. I tuck a poem next to my dick, sneak it on the plane.Ī poem goes off in the capitol, i raise a glass in unison. I hold a poem to a judge’s neck until he’s not a judge anymore. I whisper to them tender tender bridge bridge but they say bitch ain’t no time, make me a weapon! & then, finally, the window, the wind, the flowers, the honey In a car – all that fear pent in my wings, those screaming, swatting giants & it looked so sharp, so exact, a blade fit to the curve of my name. I didn’t know when i thought, i don’t like that hoe, it was just Two stank bitches, thick as mothers, a lil gone off love’s gold milk. Our dueling shoulders found each other in? a synced nod?īeing the only of our kind in a room full of not-us?) here we live Was stank right back, two skunks pissed & pissing, smelling like skunks.īut somehow (was it mutual hate for a stanker fuck? a song But like the funk of a dude unwashed & sun-whooped
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