- Non-Erotic Poetry
- Neck Knives
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Enough with the guns already.
We talked about them and my hands
shook like they did before. High anxiety.
I bet they made a deal. I bet they did.
How the hell would I know, with all my
maypole spinning tossing neck knives
each go round? All the spins got me
going gray. On the sides like a superhero.
Curl after silver curl. Like Mister Fantastic.
Hey, whatchu know about comics, gurl?
[Interruption]
Thanksgiving used to be my favorite holiday.
Mouths full of bland food and chemical joy in abundance.
Watched over him as he slept.
I'd protect anyone though.
[4]
Gads: (define), he is a thief! Like with like
I suppose. All birds (of prey) of a feather
and shit. Caw.
Mufuckin' irony.
I'm healing.
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