tête-à-tête with Jealousy

Stocky fingers

Up your

Snoot-snout

Oh jealousy

That finger is coming

From a carelessly brought drought

Of vague synchronized humping sounds

Of vaporous thoughts rejected by broca’s area

Of scrutinized bowel movements peppered with an almost tactile memory

As tactless as the placement of your strap-on phalluses fellaas

 

Bleeders always beat the count

They always climb the mounds of slippery surfaces

Mounds made of shapeless shoulders of slaves

Mounds made of broken burned glasses from obscure dark windows

Mounds made of vasopressin, of rugged tarpaulin, of worn out over-sized under garments

 

Overdosed on quinine, Jealousy, being eaten alive by persistent percussionists

By random jaywalkers straddling on the wet sidewalks

By evil prognosticators of the picaresque futures

 

Jealousy being sodomized by limbless octopuses from Sahara

By extinct depressed Rhinoceroses

By races of all the forbidden traces of humanity

By tufts of metallic hair of all the closet henchmen

 

Signed

A.