Avoid
those corners,
bit my lip
plugging
my ears,
always
shifting
to second gear.

Wanting her
to **** the chrome
right off my trailer hitch.

I 'll be the warlock
to your little witch.

Pray tell, what's that smell,
it's gone and stunk up
your brand new ancient well.

Same-old-used-to-be,
a reminder, there is lack.

Waiting for some stranger
to give me a whack,
someone stranger than strange,
have them dress in black.