i don’t want to make art tonight.
i want to spray my walls thick
with blue, splattered skyguts
and beat my tears raw against my bedpost
(notch free because i count
with my fingers + toes)

love always happens by accident and i
never forgave anyone for stepping on my
red suede shoes just like my vinyl
told me to. the television is my real mom
the radio my nanny because i listened to
fake art all my life and now i dont know
how to not make it