1.
I should be shopping in junk shops and trawling for chess sets and drinking from a half cup of water in the dog’s ear. I should be going somewhere by now. I should be cumming with a forked tongue two times a day and looking for scales in back alleyways.
I should be rutting the stairway in your nice apartment with streaks of brown paint like sucking the dry teat of the liver red cow I should be sitting in her thumbprints or swallowing her into my cavernous chest, into the hole made to remove a few things (don’t worry about it).
I have bones like the mint green toothpicks that snap when you aren’t looking due to spit damage, like what happened when the building came down. It was God spitting or the angels making dares-- it’s always the daring ones, isn’t it? I was wearing house slippers so I came downstairs just to look at the debris coming up and the girl with the raven hair (the kind that is a little blue green in the wrong lighting) was sitting and she was slim and boy those tits. I’m telling you.
2.
I was sitting on the toilet the other day and I noticed a piece of gum stuck to my sole so I peeled it off and I said thank you for this gift and I placed it just under my chin with my other loose skin and I said thank you God and I finished my shit and I wiped very studiously because that’s what you have to do if you’re being good and I like to be good.
I was going to tell you about the garden, think of that rich earth and everything you could plant there. I was thinking you could bring a TV out there and she could have her babies. We could give all the puppies away and maybe a Christmas tree, the kind that crinkles (like the popcorn bag when you want to steal it from your brother.)
I’ve got to tell you about the couch and the good smell in one spot
And I’d like to give you something for coming here...
You like pizza?
I can get you some pizza. We’ll string the pies out the window and let the cheese hang down like a sculpture, it’ll be just like an art gallery.the kids will come and suck on the greasy strings. I’ll puff up like a balloon and bloat away heeheehee.
3.
And the beautiful room at the top of the house will memorialize itself with a gravestone refrigerator the newfangled kind they put into the ground with a pneumatic press, the kind they put a dead body in and it stays good for at least two weeks at least long enough to suck out the king’s piece. The pawns are all gone when you die, there’s only so much extension a body can handle but we don’t like to spend the queen too early
and the bishops are mostly into ears, you know, jack in the pulpit kind of motherfuckers that don’t like to mess around, unlike myself in the moonlight on the good days when there’s a good sign
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