humid grass-split operation

humid grass-split operation
by cerebella
if i were to grow up one day
i’d wanna be carrie
covered in blood bath
twisted into indian burial grounds
troubled from the
wooden spoon treatment
that never seemed to end.
maybe the sun will wake me up one day.
i’d be your mosh-pit princess
i’ll sell my soul for dollars
i’ll sell my body for outer-body
for mind expansion, for debaucherous intervention
i am a
high-end prostitute
sequin eyes raining baby powder into your high tides
‘baby please don’t be sad’
i would be your screaming banshee
maybe they just made a mistake.
you yearn for
responsibility
so turn the mist on and
stare into the hose-induced rainbow
figure out how
to sample this
and let it sneeze you
back into the elongation of
the most  frightening expanding corridor

0 thoughts on “humid grass-split operation

  1. Sorry it took so long. We’re a fan of your writing down herein ATX. Also, don’t feel bad if it doesn’t last long. Under our new development umbrella specific writer categories may go away completely, but we’ll find a way to highlight our long time writers / commenters.

  2. Your images are something else. You are the expanding corridor. I want to watch what your TV has channeled.
    No joke, sometimes when I’m driving around at work stressed out about nothing I hear my mind go: “flea-swa-tted in sum-mer we-ath-er” from your asterisk poem. You’re in my brain now. you win.

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