Peanuts and kiddie Molotov cocktails On a starved stomach On Sunday afternoons I've got tobacco allergies, And a bloody tongued cat lick ticking the lil' piggy peeping out of A size and a half shoe ago
I watch myself in the fishtank mirror in the corner All the fish died for Friday's fish fry I'm watching a sunken ship One Sunday, Like a likable bully, He pulls to a picnic and builds a fire December embers trickle up, set roots in a soil sky as January's stars