If you had a more pretty name I would use it You’d find it splattered all over in my blood your name in blood You are fleshy like balloons like *** dolls they find in yellow celebrity cars But I did do did do did do did do did do love you I don’t care that your head is filled with green pool water I don’t care that any of Donne’s poetry doesn’t speak of you I mean any of it. The weird sisters, the witches have done me in. I want to boil your chick-flicks, your cheap religion, your bad vampire stories And take the needle to the jugular, filled from the cauldron If I fed you some of you to you you would say “I think I’m going to be sick” I would want to unroll my finger and point it at your face And scream with my inside-voice “Ah-HAH!” That’s meaningful. With the casket you are deep and beautifully empty We need more of you, I will clone you and rename you a thousand and one times I want to crawl through the wet streets like you Unconcerned and perfectly meaningless Perfectly meaningless *******, I am becoming, fitting to you and I am crazy and I want you to get this So bad I feel bad, the lady-killer, the ****** unsexed puppeteer’s got nothing on you sugar; you are a plastic pie, a blackberry one Your name is always in pink bubble letters in my shrinking head After I used the needle I will hide it in your bed And when you bring shining boys from the night And you don’t put on soothing **** music It will ***** one of you I hope you deflate and melt like a witch and scream and scare yourself But all the magic will already be boring in my veins And meanwhile I’ll be morphing in a back seat car And under long trees shaking like unsettled cement in the yellow yellow low low street lights Becoming that neon sign you want me to be but You never told me what to be **** this hurt, I’m getting cut with your miraculous hair, it feels like aluminum cans are slicing me in slow motion I am a spiral like an orange peel One time I saw one glued and it looked real but there was no fruit inside. When I reached inside of you, not bleeding, you moaned and stiffened I pulled out what you couldn’t reach with your fingers If I told that story in all its details people would be grossed out They would puke up each other’s hearts, be embarrassed of course and shove it back down Some people just can’t hold their hearts I felt like a doctor who cross-dresses as a ****** lover at night. What ****** man is that? I come out breaking through the windshield without my monarch *****-wings I come out with my head full of demonology and Cosmopolitan ***-tricks, babyblue thoughts And knowledge about hunting I am ten feet tall, my jaw gets squared I don’t eat ***** and I sleep well at night. I don’t trouble your patterns, my hair and eyes are bible-black And we wake up to fair-weather When you let me, I wear your skin and inside I have near death experiences You come three times a night and we own a color T.V.