cowgirl

im not as evil as my evil self can be
or put on a show for me to me
or me as top shelf liquor in me

you make me want to
write a poem

can i have all this air that i grab
straw and piles of needles

my arms might bleed for a day or two
but the thinners im taking
will make everything leak easily

how fast were you going
was it your fault
your parents are only other people
your bones are only human bones

that you want some thing or some one
to be here next to you
does not concern the chaos

my neck line is a disaster i'm telling you
through a poem
to think about sitting on top of me
looking at how small of a boy i am beneath you

but its just a poem
and the lines are bouncing around on unsurfable waves

the words are spilling out of my arm holes
seeping past chest skin ribs and man breast fat
say ugly say evil

say

the only thing easy is not existing
the only thing simple is to have an animal brain
the only thing i know is my body is falling apart

the arms and ribs and chest brain and legs and cock
and ass and feet running and nip and tongue
and taste and ear and poem and holes in all of it

cannot learn
the way my mind slowly turns over
like a cork in tide
or some space ape shot out of a cannon

so i wont ask you to heal me
just pretend for awhile
that something i say makes sense