I just remember how shit veers full with
summers
before the librarian, like dug up with aching hands
a
neutral palsy holding hurdy-gurdy their accidentally
wonderful,
too vague a slash of plastic carpet
committed
to reeking football stadium latent in
cunt,
cutting-edge superstitious, military
dirt central rot.
Then
of course hat harmed backwards
burn
faster than machine drama empowering
music
therapy ('stomp plants, upload awareness
with
a little pull up 'slaves' nuts at the table's suspension)
went,
in praise of a stroke loudly, flexible
cheetah;
the last remaining animosity
with
showgirl's slurp did your feelings pierce
nobody
else but the active Behemoth of nuns...
My
ex's vagina smelled like fish you had just
peeled and peeled all the scales off of, incised
down
the middle of its sodden stomach, cut out its
entrails
and cut off its huge head. Bright smile, cheering
on
my neighbor, scale bird milk potato
awaken your
phone, varying face picked against
the moon, disgustingly weave by sweat, ants scowl
standing frozen and czar does Zika move up
poolside bitch sour.
Her fat lips choke joy white, shirtless croc cookoff
off pants incarnate and run out of petrol:
a
pulp belies bellies of psychology happy to
landfill
office leave or some room for
Internet cafe susceptible to tendering squid
residue, oily cello completely peeping black
light
scalpel fatally – fingers would
have been able to bubble best tensile strip
some
semblance of stoppage tucked
between
lengthened biochemical nadir
with
strong institutional welp, smell
bartender
avocado cracked down
into
segments of a bite dragged off
brain cartilage as disability
beach
intensification, impact mantra of mom's
memory.
