62

When it was really time for the baby

gangsters to eat their gruel, panicked hearts

bump bump bump in little tin cups;

my teacher took a text out his pants, liquid

shit dripped from a quivered arsehole…

can anyone name all the states? he roars, face a fire.

They sigh, eyes trickle in a pool, ears beyond

hearing. Don’t you watch TV?

my hot doppelganger, my alter-ego, demands in quick

hunger. disbelief’s tears sweep his veins