I’ve got to start giving up. Submit myself to the absence of talent and creativity, curl up on the carpet, let my drool form a warm puddle under my cheek, wake up, eat a donut, pick my nose, fade away underneath the blanket, have a dream about chains and gimps in orange jump suits, metallic prison buffets, and the warden’s keys are scrambled with my eggs. I got to learn to shut the fuck up and die. Do a shit covered backflip on center stage, my shoulders are weeping, so I shouldn’t fuck.
Whispering into her ear, when she wanders drunkenly into my room ass and tits dragging on the floor, all the best fat are splinter pillows now…from behind, pulling hair behind ear: you don’t belong here . my cigar stained mini teeth tell ghost stories at the sewage plant, like the time we tried to put Maine Coon his refrigerator pajamas but there wasn’t a word in out language to describe the scenario so instead we sold stale baskets of tie dyed shrimp out of the trunk of my Hyundai…We were trying to turn tricks to get to the amusement park, but all the buses were wet, so I kissed my lucky bone and snorted a tube of toothpaste.
Shitting in a bag strapped to my ass while she pours water into my lap from a green jug, I admire your lipstick, it looks good on your face. panties stink like mozzarella cheese nuggets. Sweating last night’s hooker whiskey at work, scrubbing my face with grain alcohol so my pores resemble a cave…I have never seen her so happy, dimples form on her cheek bones her smile is so wide, pool of cum in her belly button, when I was strapped nigga…
My right leg is chained to my left arm, and my upper back resembles a brick wall, tatted up by Pablo and his son, the old man with the glasses, silently serving a quick thirty before he moves out to Philly to converse with the prostitute who will glide her nipples up and down my brick wall, they harden along with me, and call me a dog dude, talk about boners if you’re scared to meet me then let’s do it in public, it don’t have to be dark outside, though Pablo prefers to take the old man with glasses that way.
Cute dog, you would make an excellent hole. Crutches in the corner, in case I get hungry. A man with no arms or legs fucks my pal, Mitch, with a bone-saw. I’m the ill type of street goon, high on ass, to spill my entrails on a pulpit of cheddar cheese, hoping he’ll cut my check along with a new pair of slacks. I do not want to talk to her again, but she gets in my face, forces me to buy food with her siamese cat, and I become drunk with rage. Don’t you see that I wish to be left alone? Don’t try to tripe me, dude, I know you have eaten past the rib cage. Read a book, it tastes better than my world famous kitty litter. Tremendously small face.
My grind is ridiculous. My nose is the shape of a walnut, I carve your cheek so it hangs like the nose of a proboscis monkey, the patch of hung skin will stick up nicely, expect a sexy scar. My glasses fall off my crooked horn nose into a toilet bowl elixir of pubes, eyelashes and ketamine. She’s a chunk. She’s a dump. Take a chunk from my dump chunk and snag a dump, take a beating, are you crying? Why are you crying? Stop crying? Fuuuuuuuck! Dayuuuummmmmm!
Curl up and fuck on the carpet, the dwelling is composed of decomposed rabbit’s hide, a room full of wet books, squeeze a pin sized drop of pizza grease from the hole in my chest. In a bucket accumulate them-in a freezer freeze them for use later this week in a frying pan to deep fry Putty’s wonderfully, naturally occurring curls.