Thursday, March 28, 2013

Nine White Russians



            In slathered paper syntax
                        the Godspeech told me
                                    to end it all, John, end it

            with exquisite corpse drawings
                        depicting grotesque
                                    fellows, throbbing and erect.

            Leave them behind on napkins
                        to receive confused
                                    and sloppy reactions from

            pseudo-intellectuals;
                        they have read a book
                                    but do not know what to think

            when I vomit on their shoes,
                        murmuring violent
                                    obscenities at their feet.

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