I wanted to carry you on a drum
but my fat lip stopped
everything
I took it as communion
ASCENSIONE
(it’s OK to eat the host)
& some women you know they hate you
& you wonder why they don’t call
& you wonder what you did wrong
& you run down the hallway barefoot
& you burn a bit
a bit
golder
it does not get easier
it never gets easier
this is the HA HA Annie Oakley curse
pistol
rifle
shotgun
littlesureshot
posted by Radish King at 6:04 PM
3 Comments:
Some women they hate you after, those are the ones who will never know how golden you are, littlesureshot, I love you.
And I love you.
Nothing does get easier, at all.
Oh my GOD. Little Gumshoe. Smarty pants. Serial Killer. Don't wade in too far. This last week has been Fire. The entire skeleton. All the Juice. And it's not even summer. Yet. I would send a large plastic tub of blue ice water to you if I could. And you would be small enough, tiny enough, to swim in it and dream deep purple dreams with no words in them. Keep the pinks in your nails. We are full of various colorful birds here. All over. It's the crazy weather. Not even summer yet. Already in the 90s. Move through your island in swooping swirls, littlesureshotlovely. My God. Today is Pentecost. Our heads are on fire.
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