Some Discomfort


I fellated a wolf on my father's waterbed.
They came with their stun guns.
They came with their Cher masks.
They came with their guilty slippers.
I laughed when they said cancer.
I pulled a stick of butter out of my arm.
I peeled away the hours like band-aids.
They rifled the pockets of every coffin.
They rifled in the street, without Trotsky.
They rifled through unnamable salads.
I was nothing left to find.
I hailed Caesar with caffeine pills.
I bathed in the cicadae fountain.
They did my hair with a nuclear bowtie.
They did a vaudeville-themed abortion.
They did share a discomfort for surnames.
I cut off my scabs and tied them to helium balloons.
I watched the people in planes select them like delicacies.
I did share some discomfort with my pursuers.
  
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