Category: Poetry
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He folds me and props me up scans my teeth for eyes I am bitter and plain, stinky and deranged Five days of late-night split shifts I’m a fart fizzling in the rain, weezing
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Brutus must have meat He eat meat You eat beef? Me beef eat!
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I am the dick bug, shedding skin, growing harder with each molting Until I die The die is cast
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My dog stares at me While I am concentrating I turn my shoulder to hide
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I like Subway, but four Sandwiches unto myself equals a burgeoning ecosystem arising from the soggy leavened bread, droopy vegetables, and slimy meat.
