There on the swingset
feeding a pigeon, one fucking pigeon...
How it was morning and bright and sleep was
to physicality and kerosene one gender alone. Both
my, my, my.
An event so rare. You come into town
and liberate the feet of the teens. We
are stranded by snow.
Falling-down-hopeless alcoholics, gag a little -
force it all down, munch our hay. The milk truck had left.
I vouched for that.
It is my birthday. Bring on the razor
make love to it and take me out to dinner. Pickle it.
- Pigeons! For fuck's sake...
There should be starlings
You chose poison.