You can put your gun in my mouth

17 Feb

it hits my face and i want to stick out my tongue
catch the bits of cold but my eyelashes twitter and
i look down, the puddling in the sidewalk, the sprouts in the cracks
the banana peels that look like chocolate
next to the Hennessy bottle

we move in fleets like the rain on my hood,
washing the “call Dreda” off my hand
in convoys like germs on blankets and cold viruses
and spammers
she looks at the bed with the canopy and says
this used to be my headdress
and he, painted, says yes, smooths the sheets
they fuck long and hard together with no pillows beneath their heads
each thinking of a history without the other
a future without interruption

there’s a bit of mold under the chair, the bed,
in the corner of the shower where she puts her razor

it spreads like human history toward the unspoiled whiteness of the plaster, tile

One Response to “You can put your gun in my mouth”

  1. Lucy February 18, 2009 at 2:50 am #


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