a cafe debuted its supermodel, a yummy pumpkin.
stuck him in the bed with me and the new yellow
sheets. working hard working is what we were doing.
haha his mouth was a purse filled with new nickels.
because this small apartment fits us just right.
we plump up just to spite the pears and the wine.
one comes here to witness such side effects. e.g.
a love birthday with imaginary wisdom teeth. yanked.
it is effective. we like the sex because it is crisp.
the sheets do this to us. and the sofa burns in hell
along with all of its fantastical sins.
we are less excited to boogie. the rain stomps on the
flesh-colored slipcovers. an august romp makes doing it
hotter than ever. how does one imagine it better?
honestly if a poem is so subtly soluble why bother to
stir anything up? yet nothing is lovelier huh?
so for breakfast we enjoyed the elm trees.
our bread tasted like lips and the furniture
always needs rearrangement.
first published in High Horse
