meet me where the circle gets the square
his leaked nudes
and diatribes
on elm street
turn coins
into gold
and gold into
a new polemic
but there is
so much
pointing me towards
water
and I don’t want
to drink it
instead I want
to wash myself in it
strap myself to the basin
where pigs feed
and cry
while I become dust
again
and again
and again
three times over
is the charm
they say
when he lies my heart
grows bigger
and there is no one
there altogether
we are correcting
made up offenses
and self-serving
platitudes
with a revisionist
pen
and the ink
dries up
until an instagram story
it all stops
at the brick wall
the end of the universe as we know it
it becomes
empty thought
and pointless gesture
I cannot do it all alone
I want to
take a picture
of the rosebush
and tell you
all how good it smells
that you should
go visit
it here
and here
project
my desire
project my infantile
desire to be fucked like a baby
and cry
and weep
there is so much destruction
it makes me sweat to
see it all
and turns me on
at the same time
the ripping of trees
the destroying of resources
we rebel against
mother nature with
the devices of her
own consciousness
the machinations
of our own innards are
toward death
and decay
and untimeliness
and the worship of
something other
and that is inside of us
the reformed christian
to brand-level marketing
girl pipeline
is the only one I care about
im left
nowhere to go
on the road to Bordeaux
trail blazing skins
on skateboards
write the narrative
men in suits
pick me up
ask for a drink
collared shirt boys
fight the urge
to fuck me
in front of their girlfriends
wrap me up
in a seatbelt
and spit in my mouth
while slapping my
ass
mom always said you could bounce a quarter off of it.
Thirteenth PIG