Chuck Palahniuk skull
the caves of Alta-mira
and Lascaux. Borders
Books. Barnes & Nobel
asswipery of magazine
subsets subselections.
Hot young dudes
subsets subselections
of different cock bows
they can get off just
saying their names,
rubbing their names
together like cocks
but
thinking cunt
on a drop-down menu.
Gay boys are getting
much straighter/depressing.
Grazing australopithecines
blow moonlets on coffees.
Third world panties
appear in the surface
of the conquistador shit water,
turns around it's
a transgender Indian
programmer. You imagine
an entire life together.
Entire life meaning
you're 27 now and
(s)he's 22, so the
sex lasts interestingly
post-op to maybe her
29, your 34. I can't
add. One day you fight
over the cutting of hedges
and you storm off
into a straighter, more
straight form of fucking
wtf marriage and secretly
start voting for the other side.
Democrat or something.
"I love your Edward Scisshorhands
girlfriend," someone says
about a transsexual
but she thinks it's funny
and blows little moons
off her coffee top
onto the concrete
of the First World
which is the one
with the biggest strap-on
and most game shows
about real serial killing.
Like most people, I was once
of an age when I would have given
Ezra Pound a blow job.
No, I don't drink that coffee shit.
Why do you think I called it
"conquistador shit water?'
Can't you tell I'm a poet
and I can't read?
Somebody please take my hand.
The other one.
The one without the machete.
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