Brothel

Deep inside the final act

You’re drawing a hotel on his lips

The child we share is safely held

Somewhere she will never meet you

Remnants of a mother on a brothel shore

Saying you cannot be like this anymore

He who wants me must swing like a salon door

And you will have to change again

Plants herself like Mary in her golden crumb

If he’s just a decision, he’s the obvious one

If he turns his cheek when she goes down in the sun

If he turns a week old when she comes undone

Frantic

Frantic

Bathing your ass in the time of your life

A cricket floundering on the west pool deck

Nine of them have planned tattoos across your breast

A long time, a calculated pest

The acid hasn’t changed my mind

They used to think they’d have the time

They used to think their teachers were right

They used to be afraid of a liar’s dice

They used to think no one would want to kill them

I used to stoop down low to hear the crickets flirt

I used to ask about the specks of blood on your shirt

I used to hear your song and I knew all of the words

I’m climbing out of the holes in my yesterday heels

But I will howl at every closed window

I will drink myself down until I turn boneless

I will turn to sludge and slip through the cracks in the flooring where roaches sleep

I will become the Lord’s favorite two-dimensional wretch so you can see me in one light

I will blow up landmines in the shape of answers in the No Man’s Land

I will spit baseballs at the sun until they turn into missiles

I will kick a dead dog just to make him feel something

I will reach into the back of the sky’s neck and pull his spine down to show you he’s not all powerful

And you will never be able to see him again

And I will never be so innocent again

Signed,

Beezle Bob