slow down my breathing to get ahold of you; sniper among us, walking about, he’ll down his beef jerky and choke on his spit; mouths watering, i see a pig on a stick. “Roasting a pig,” so they say, smoking him out, i know that he’s gay. And? What? He hates what he is? Can’t force somebody to be any less of a jerk—if he hates himself, hey, nonny, that’s on him.
glassy eyed math genie, what might have been? If i’d gotten off the sauce, instead of beating my head in? don’t hear from this one all the time; she’s busy, let down—he lives with his parents, halfway to the moon. kiss him darling, and he’ll turn into a prince: he’ll sweep you up—punish him, now, for thinking that: he’ll accept me because I am not so old—thinking darling, of the years ahead—not how rapidly they come and go; stealing our thunder like storming the capital: one decade we’re here and the next we’re halfway to the door
i won’t let up—take one for the team, kid
hey, loco, you’re better off when you’re dead
living, weren’t you, from the body you hid,
poking the bear, working, off to a job, instead
look, coal-driving man, I see your thumb,
doing everything you can to cancel him out,
thinking on my idiotic spiced rum,
pirate in the castle—the king has gout
go to your princess to stop his assault,
don’t know what you’re thinking, no good,
for any of us—no, love, it’s not my fault—
do what you can and think what you should
groping those because of my syndrome—
watch out little lady—young men to boot,
i don’t even like people; heaven’s no home,
people, there, are getting scarce, thinking
Jack, that I’m better off if I stay right here,
writing my poetry to clear my account,
woman I love—man I foster, or is it, dear,
the other way around; i have a large amount
of gumption to stand my ground, do go
hunting for what, in fact, is USA bound
look little weasel, at the world I throw,
groping another, can’t help it, you hound
get on your meds, lock him up, he’s scared
you don’t know how he feels, verbal coward
feel, in your head, in your heart, what paired
two people that love each other, forward
we march—it’s not enough, i’m feeling parched,
coming for the other side of the sun, can’t
get there honey, my member is starched,
iron it out, iron board chest, that’s fine, rant
all you like—what matters is the way i feel
sorry to know what will never deal
hey, nonny, i’m alive, now, behind the wheel
traveling blues, freezing what I cannot steal
that would be me, on the streets of Paris
curled up in a window, on point, suspect!
You know what i think, like a cat, you hiss
do it, now, make everything correct
land in the measure, heart murmur, baby
doll sad; think of the chest she couldn’t keep
sourdough bread, that’s enough for me,
i’m changing my tune, i hate to dig deep
but this is my suffering, pushed outward
i know you must be overwhelmed, but, lass
i have no regrets—not after the ward
that treated me like shit—frauds with gas
in their Pervitin cockpit; stick it to the man
or, even better, yet, “she likes it like that,”
and maybe she does—but you can tan
his hide, necessarily, with mortal combat
silly me, it’s not you that I was after, i think
instead, of the will to serve; that means this:
I don’t know, exactly, the swill you drink
but it tastes like shit—so blow me a kiss
manhandled elbow that takes me by surprise
say the word, chief, and I’ll rub it in,
the enemy, love, is the enemy within—wise
man thinking on the gas that would spin
his story in and out of our minds, hearts,
love, that change the way people think,
this guy is a crusader—but his loving smarts
not what i imagined, but, to imagine, it’s pink
blood gushing to my warrior brain, mangled
in the aftermath of my addiction to speed,
accidents happen, gibberish, new-fangled
absence of my incel dream—thinking I need
what makes my heart bleed, rushing to
the post office—mail the letter you’d read
if you got around to getting off his ass, boo,
whelp in the kitchen, this is Waterloo