What was made from the rib of Eve?

joseph-s-c-pope Poems

Thousands of grains of rice boiled and resting on the lining of unconsumed human veal. No one can **** the dweeb who suckered that one kid at the party out of drugs with the help of the cutest girl there. He knew how to hurt the best in the world with one word. Sweet tea and *** goes much deeper than the ribs and out the back door much faster than a deadbeat dad. The stomach rumbles the world far worse than a string of serial rapists on trial. World hunger is a yo-yo doing pendulum swings over summer BBQs drinking and popping *** and candy from the local radio station. “I'm sorry I felled you. I should have done better by you. I love you.” Vague women with just five minute existences of commitments, those Senators of Love vying for second and third terms before they sink into those holes in South America you hear about in the news. Men know nothing but control. Women know nothing but control. Numbers know nothing. Collapsed tunnels in the mind of Prometheus before calendars and Twitter and liquor just the dark and blunt objects