friendly giant

Painting on leather sucks. Will post a pic of him wearing it soon.

This is a lullaby, a lambasting, and a Lavern and Shirley episode. All together now. Who even sleeps anymore? Bad breams come like black cats lined up, a conga from the grave. Flight decks and camisoles. Carbonated cabbage. Like a sliver in my thigh.

I’m a slot machine. A coal furnace. A raw potato. Earwigs. Brass fittings and cornrows. Fixed. Cash on delivery.

A pastiche, like the way the boots are all reverbed out. Penicillin and platitudes. Hot like plaid oven mitts. We don’t need no water. Amish youth raise the roof. Burn.