SO WALK BY ABAYA INSTEAD
I have a job I can't give your ego massages and vast insecurities can't be
fixed in intestinal bliss what do you think I'm an emotional plumber have
you gotten dumber can you fill your empty soul with cheese whiz Jeez Louise
why'd you sit on a Parisian fantasy in the mind of one deeply above the
level of discourse of horseshung and smokified lungs are a decent source of
calcium.
I say, "I want ten genius points for each Happy Ending while your divorce is
pending you licked the gardener's Lolita boobies in heat."
I don't eat meat but you never remember that and when you skip Mother's Day
you'll find perfection in Ball Park Franks and Path train rides to
Poughkeepsie.
Do you see yourself between the lines in my well of eternal childishness and
childlessness is easy for me as you block the fucking street with baby
carriage meet and greet a potato shaped hip and suck the lip that bites the
neck but I know those eyes better than that soul and the scars you leave
they fade with combs and ice cubes.
Enter the dragon and keep the tongues wagging and bite the hand that
squeezes the mammary gland without permission a massage at fission turns
nasty when you sneeze.
And now your heart belongs to art memorialized in verse you'll read as your
eyes sag boobs sag neck sags gravity pulls and aging lulls the mind and
decisions that bind no longer seem like choices.
I miss the days of Mike and broken arms and snack food farms and retarded
charms and wondrous stories of football games with dorks abound in
fields across New Jersey.
You look like some European artist I'm sure that is intentional but shave
that shit regain your youth and how about you bleach that tooth and sit
beside me weeping over friends that moved to Australia.
Hey why don't you come over and write songs with me and save my life cause
Robert Pollard was my age when GBV became the rage and I've got chords and
I've got words and I've got friends to hear our dirge and in the end
Sukala's Brother would rock.
She said, "At least you don't have to walk by Meow Mix on your way home" a
homophobic tome they have one bar and yet you have to spit upon the sanctity
of lesbians in harmony kissing every sweetly in sexy serendipity:
So walk by Abaya instead.
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