Wednesday, October 19, 2011

the handle of doom

is hot when you take it
fresh off the stove
searing the skin

cat smiles like a serial killer
with the mocking bird mouth
well groomed for supper

smoke rises up from the tinfoil
matchstick and methamphetamine
lips still plastered

pushing it away, an illusion
more interesting with a monkey
that sucks out your soul

through a little straw
with red and blue stripes
and flexible at one end

splitting atoms on a rising moon
sitting in the kitchen
until way past two

monkey feet in the window
drinks his scotch the right way
no water and scratches his crotch

shits where he pleases
pushes it in the corner
with his blue hairy foot

he believes in women
who admire his pants
come stains on his shoes

they have smooth bodies
that he collects on a shelf
he eats them
with a mockingbird mouth
never pays no mind
smells like muskmelon

he can smell them
with his one blind eye
his cane can find the opening

No comments:

Post a Comment