But I will ******* like the bible should be
******, not all soggy and misremembered
No, like a true gentleman, I’ll pull your
hair a little and I’ll whisper some things that
echo like inside mother’s womb
Don’t ask me to ‘cause I won’t call you back

Burp up some acid reflux
onto my chest and tell me it looks like
ectoplasm, let’s get those demons out of you
bring out the Ouija board and let’s
smash it, I know they’d just hate that

This isn’t clairvoyance, it’s black metal
dance music and you’re stripping for me like
I am your father or some other guy with
too many tongues and I know one day
I’m gonna write way too many poems about

Your youth is growing out of you but it’s not
a petunia, it’s more like that alien in the movie
Alien and it’s telling me in the wrong language
fdjsodsfaokdncvmjklclkmewa
so I take it as a mixed signal
so I take it as a yes

I have made lovers feel like they’re a bailout
but tonight, darling I’m gonna make you feel
some astral projection and you won’t see God but
you’ll see how many prophecies my sheets have made
up

Yesterday was my father’s 60th birthday so I called him.
How many times have I heard tears of joy at the end of a receiver?
I don’t know how to answer these things,
I do not have a response to my own age sadness
nor my father’s.
I told him I had class and hung up.

Sometimes, I wonder why god does not give me a phone call.
It seems everyone has been hearing from him lately
and I wonder if it is because I do not brush my teeth
in the morning or if it is because I spit on Ricky’s pants
in third grade. He called me foxy
I just wanted to be human.

Do you think people are ghosts until they speak their mind?
Look at Anne Frank and Michael Jackson-
They are the closest things to humans I can find
when I look in gutters and radio signals
(I don’t find much there)

I bet you’re the type of person
who looks in between couch cushions and finds
job interviews and an always loving mother
who will never forget to pack you a lunch
and will always remember the exact time
of your birthday or your soccer schedule

I bet you and god talk on a regular basis

You are the type that I wish the best of luck to
out of respect but never necessity
and you tell me my eyelids are too heavy
and I should stop ironing out my poetry

I want to write you a letter
and dot all of the eyes with hearts
but I don’t mean to be ****** at all, I’m sorry
I just miss feeling as good
as my first kiss which wasn’t very good
but I am running out of firsts
and last is my least
favorite word in the dictionary

Tonight I will try calling god,
but my roommate will pick up the phone
and instead I will crawl into an envelope
and wait, wait--
I hope this is not something that will disappoint you