That Pointy Stick
she found it, running around
where she said that she couldn’t
I think I will, Vickie had it
recite your prayers, it goes back to Sue
too little, too late, too much for the pictures
to bind your will, last rolling papers
I did not mean for this, solid bloom
it came out all wrong, sipping whiskey
to the window, your thrill, as I climbed upon the ladder
she said it was all about love, all about the intention
the bet upon the wheel, to jack the bitch
gone all week, all but the original purpose
plastic bags, about 4:40 or so,
that will work, for original sin
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