what kind of flowers for the wake?
I was thinking something like Tiger Lilies
but let’s face it sheâ€™s is a bit “tigery”.
so let’s go with that. Amen
What did the autopsy say?
Engine damage that can’t be repaired.
And sheâ€™s not replacing an engine:
since she hates car problems
Wine will help at least for the moment,
so that’s no longer a problem.
“reply to someone who said there’s a lot of not-happy going around”
Iâ€™m licking the sweet syrup
from a snow cone
serving bacon with a side of bacon
’86’ the omelet, hold the potatoes
I’m sticking my tongue directly on
the sizzle of a steak
lying on my back while hot caramel
is poured directly into my open mouth
Iâ€™m stretching the melted cheese
that is connected to my nacho chip
rolling in a sandbox of mapled
pork and Boston baked beans
I’m sitting at the end of the buffet
while a snow plow fills my plate
waiting to be fed by what the world owes me
while demanding to be called a pig in shit.
“This IS Bitchinâ€™”
I liken it to licking
dried out chicken
never got acanthosis nigricans
“Wait-You Canâ€™t Hide It.”
stand and fall
over, for someone
thatâ€™ll say, youâ€™d better hear
the warning: you canâ€™t be doing this
tripping over a root bulging from the ground
like an arm lying there dead, the body right
in your backyard cause sometimes you fall hard
itâ€™s like youâ€™ve buried the pieces of yourself
When I raised my hand
told a gray room the reasons I started drinking,
I wanted to start again immediately. Told people, whose faces
looked like The End of the World, the truth.
Then I told them I would pour that girl I had lusted for down
like whiskey, her lovely legs spread until they snapped,
so I could feel like I used
her, an orgasm I gulped, that rained
down my neck like streams of veins.
Oh, I said I never used dope,
when I asked her for it
nicely, she said, but no,
she never would give it up,
just got up, waltzed out of my life.
So I begged: Please, God, stay with me
tonight, here in this basement. Please,
I can’t picture heaven.