Like a red drippy stripe,
you twirl,
spin & gyrate,
gripping & kicking,
rubbing the y
for sheckles.
Rolled up like fat cigars,
you stretch elastic
listening to cat calls,
hearing your stage-name
as beer-smells waft,
mixed with sweat,
raw pheromones
& ****** tunes.

when nobody says hello
make a smiley face on my pant leg above my knee
its looks at me and smiles
it makes me sad but at least its better than nothing
then i cheer up and go around singing
then finally somebody sees me
and they already know
hello :)

the world crushes you to pieces
i wanted to be an altoid
because who doesn't love fresh breath
but everyone mistakes my dust for anthrax
and i thought we were way over that phase
but apparently short-term memory loss doesn't work with traumatic experiences
and everyone remembers
the chill in their throats, the cool air in their nostrils
when they saw
mad shoe and mailbox bombers
images on a news screen
hardly even real

i was real
and i was chewed to pieces