IT'S SATURDAY MORNING, CAN'T YOU FUCK ME
INSTEAD OF THE TV?
won't ride in your Boxter
Looking destructive as a goat
Eating your seats, cell phone, little
Gentler, it camouflages into scenery
A canopy of bent cobalt willows,
An icy bridge in lavender fog
A zig-zaggy tunnel, lights flickering
Zip through my dangerous curves
No backup plans
For the Acme piano on your roof
The forty foot drop into a
Shark infested fishbowl
My high heeled ostrich go-go boots
Smashing you like an accordion.