by garland middleton
outside of the quaint cafÃ©
we throw in-tact fox
skull’s for our little
while sipping on
spiked with evan’s finest.
he applies his red lipstick
while she barks orders
at pup one and pup two.
i cover my ears in frustration
for that fox skull is
too pretty and broken
too perfectly at the jaw
to become a toy for
an inbred chihuahua.
(i feel that she is always taking control)
and the lipstick he puts on
makes his lips look
surprisingly thin which vexes
(those lips were so kissable once)
strange parisian man
comes and invites us to the gardens
and with a decision made
we are there arguing about
trips to france and the re entry into school.
trips to france will not do if one is
serious about school! trips to france
helping with lighting when one know’s little
the dreams of an anxious young lady
demonstrate paranoid anger and loss
and usually leave a cold sweat on said lady’s
pale smooth forehead. the lack of control
on anxiety stricken dreamy nights that one might feel
is completely part of the process of
figuring shit out
and must run it’s vicious course on the
left and right side of the brain.
(mostly right, she can tell by her headaches)