like swallowing a rusted bayonet

I am so sure that your hips are a marching band

Like Godzila after a cold shower

Like surviving the 30-second Listerine© challenge

Like that noise you can get silly putty to make

Right before it steals all the ink from my pages.

 

I am finding hidden messages in tracks you burned on a blank CD

Like the writing only mermaids get to see on the bottom of boats

Like when you used to scrawl in lemon juice

Like that time I sent away for that secret decoder

And all I figured out was how to hem your mother’s old dress.

 

I am unreal when it comes to tying your shoes

Like eating ice cream after hiding all the vegetables

Like dancing long after the disco dies down

Like the way I can jump three times as high on Mars

Even though you’ve got my feet feeling like when pencils were actually made with lead.

 

I still put my pants on one fuck at a time

Like I miss the taste of your turtleneck

Like a night of KFC© Double-Downs

Like it’s washed down with the orc piss

That’s been sitting in my backpack for a week because I stopped cleaning it out after I didn’t need to make sure no one saw what I liked to keep in the side pocket anymore.

 

I’m sorry, have we met?

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~ by ripgrimey on May 25, 2012.

2 Responses to “like swallowing a rusted bayonet”

  1. That was an excellent post. Thanks for sharing it. I really enjoyed it very much.

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  2. Yep. Glad you’re back. Good stuff.

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