Tuesday, July 6, 2010


A Poem:

Don’t wait around for that spindle prick,
You owe it to yourself to admit
Those tender lover lips
Just ain’t comin’
Because there are beauties out there
Who never sleep
With heartless sleeves, if any at all,
No dragons in their cunts,
No dragons named sense,
No prickers, no fear,
No quests to keep them more east coast than near.
So princess, you’d better get a move on
Before your castle crumbles
Into a sinkhole hungry underneath-
The one you shrugged off,
The one you “whatever"ed. Remember?
The bobby soxer hope chest topples too,
And good, ‘cause there’s no room for it any other place,
Especially with all these big lessons that almost came too late,
And some prick you’ll love to hate.
Fuck it.
No one lives in castles these days.