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glass can May 2011
I made you a crown of dried chicken feet,
it goes with your snake eyes,
like how dice stare back, irisless.

I bet fifty clams on Steady As She Goes,
I dug them up in Maine for chowder.
Well, my Friday dinner just walked away.

I put your hand in the waffle iron and closed it shut.
That's for trying to make a better pancake, good suggestion,
pretentious Belgian *******.
Next time I'll just stub my cigarette out your sweet Sunday brunch,
you'll eat the ashes out of the little cubes that are so fluffy and crisp.

Cleaning up a broken pillow after a pillowfight,
that's rough stuff.
**** feathers, it's a cotton from now on.
Let's practice making out.
Gross, I don't like girls, I was kidding. Get the ******* me.

They snuck syrup and chemicals into all your drinks,
but don't worry, I removed it.
You spit it out and say GROSS WHAT IS THIS THIS HAS GONE BAD
fine. keep ******* down on those chemicals cancer kid.
Bark like a dog that can’t bite
You’re a rerun, redundant
Idiot shouting at staples on trees
Guns to a pillowfight, pillows to a massacre
Why can’t you learn the perfect place to sit

Your eyes look handsome when your mouth is closed
Talk until your lungs become heavy with air
But know that not a soul listens to you freely
Your only audience is a captive one
We encourage you to try anyway
Someone out there must be into that sort of thing

Try drinking and feeling more and less
Be the coat hanger that everyone else loves
Talk to me, I want to know how you’re running
I don’t want to hear about your prosthetics
But the guy standing next to you sounds nice

Have you tried to end your life lately?
You might smile more if you think about it daily
We liked you more back when you were smaller
When you were close to the edge of that thought
When our clothes didn’t fit you
When we liked you even less

— The End —