she had a mind like a brushfire
ate the testicles of men at a glance
and knew how to foreplay
my weaknesses like loaded dice
Gingiva Racklehaus AKA The Tarantula
had me in a state of moral exhaustion
in an emaciated Assyrian odyssey
laced into the spokes of her chariot
I know she won't always have
the sickle moon *** she has now
and made that scientific analysis known
people who are honest are always in trouble
but I needed her help to get out on parole
having been caught collaborating
with the lead in my pencil
handwriting analysis gave me up
darkness blends with truth
confessing under a barber's hot comb
to nothing but having looked at the stars
you can't put a fence around that
being the only ethical conclusion
I tried a last ditch gambit
but she liked living with a gun to my head
demonstrably much more than I did
because it amuses me is no answer
gimme your brains cowboy
or I'll blow them across the room
she had already cut out my heart
blew it up like a rubber balloon
my prayers did absolutely nothing
and I go shopping for an online exorcist
as it whooshes about the room
upsetting the cat shocking the monkey
and giving the turtle spasms of mania
which for him and his hard umbrella
was a slowly unfolding historic epoch
but I knew who my hard umbrella was
and sent a signal out on Ginger's web
the response was back lickety split
answering the age old question
where do we hide the body
but in plain sight so here I am
I amused her and we married
even a sociopath will enlist
after an *** kicking by the Gods
we're all hungry for a new day after all
so by all means don't **** your TV
leave in on full volume until
the snow makes you smart
failing that give it to someone
who knows how to make it work
to read a civilization's spoor sign

From "Pageant of Naked Mischief" available on Amazon