I put a make believe woman through hell.
I worship the devil.
I worship the devil because my dog drowns in a water bowl.
I pass the time writing holy, holy.
I condemn my body
as I need
proof.
I say to a particular no one a boy after my own heart.
I’m not sure what makes mother power off the television.
she moans afterward as if it is the great work of her neck.
I keep an appointment to be blinded by a window washer.
every other word of my father’s autobiography
is not so strange.
if I hadn’t ****** myself in second grade, Hector might have.
his brothers would’ve beaten him. his unborn sister
would’ve been premature
on purpose.
I can count on your hand the Hectors we know.
it could be that mother worries we are wildlife.
she wrote once
depression is a dog whistle. I missed dinner sounding it out.
between me and you, you’re the private
sort
of person
women
like.
Oct 12, 2012
Oct 12, 2012 at 1:48 AM UTC
I put a make believe woman through hell.
I worship the devil.
I worship the devil because my dog drowns in a water bowl.
I pass the time writing holy, holy.
I condemn my body
as I need
proof.
I say to a particular no one a boy after my own heart.
I’m not sure what makes mother power off the television.
she moans afterward as if it is the great work of her neck.
I keep an appointment to be blinded by a window washer.
every other word of my father’s autobiography
is not so strange.
if I hadn’t ****** myself in second grade, Hector might have.
his brothers would’ve beaten him. his unborn sister
would’ve been premature
on purpose.
I can count on your hand the Hectors we know.
it could be that mother worries we are wildlife.
she wrote once
depression is a dog whistle. I missed dinner sounding it out.
between me and you, you’re the private
sort
of person
women
like.
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