Sunday, August 9

DAY 7: Daily double


sidles in, she
just hushes us
as she ashes

warm, wet eggs
sun-heated hashes
we waste weeks to hail here
to have soft chairs on bare caches

how we shift and shear sheets
how we smile
dreaming warm cream 
will fill our glasses.

But monday, beaks ache.
time skitters into seconds; 
it’s tick for work, tock for cake
everything is right, or it’s a mistake

you check the clock
shit a brick on a plate
kick on some slicks
screech out for the interstate

he checks info on steak
but the steak is cut rate 
bukkake kills six
update at eight

No comments: