Friday, November 8, 2019







—BUT WHERE ARE THE CLOWNS?


                                                  Baby
Kiss me with all of those bitter clouds stuck in your mouth.  Douse my rags with kerosene and flick a smitten match.  You can give me your misspelled tattoos and I’ll stitch every tainted consonant on my skin.  Yeah, I’ll be your tramp-stamp doll, the DUI you can’t take back, that shattered glass glittering red in the road.  Go ahead, please.  Stuff every jawbreaker of regret straight down my throat.  I’ll even take your uncle’s awful hands and shove them in my underwear instead of yours.  Baby, baby, baby.  Can’t you see I love you?  Turn those ears this way, tip your head and hear me screaming.


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