Who to Name, Who…

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Who to Name, Who…
by Scott Peirce and Travis Catsull

“What a gate, fucker,
the fortress in lockdown
and you’ve severed my wire,
fucker.”

On the table
a black buttercup pie
and the electric owls
scream through the kitchen

And the air conditioner’s going,
small cats licking themselves
in the corner

“Here is your pie.”

-A small cup
of water
is too

but
anything
else

1. we say while
spraying
down the company
truck

2. while the bushes
brown
and the pool
is locked
tight

3. wait

“You’ve landlorded me
into a
stupor

but I’ve kept track
of the hostages.

They’ve lit
candles
for the corpse.”

Suddenly the planets come
closer and closer
to the gate.

It was only a puppy.

I put shoes on
my horse
so if it tried
to take us

I could pull a wagon
of food
faster
across Venus.

A general sentiment:

I was here with budweisers
there has got to be more
emu,

Somewhere, son,
Emu.

(swear it
the fastest Christian
in cotton shirts
cannot bend the iron
quick enough to keep
me out of the city
with beers)

we’ll take all the pie
you’re dishing out

however
my horse would have none of it
the townspeople
watched from their
transvestite hot tubs.

“you actor,
you’re just
saying things,”

leave my horse out of this

and it was true,
my brother was a bastard,
but I’ll fuck you for locking
me out,

it’s family business,
it’s rocket science

we all cleaned carpets
after that
I stopped complaining
and let the leaves curl
there in her
wheel chair doorway
ramp

2 thoughts on “Who to Name, Who…

  1. A stellar pastoral of drunken Prometheus burning down ‘Little House on the Prarie’ with his poetry and tardising to modernity as the 1st Horseman wielding puppies, kittens, and Laura Ingalls Wildwoman slicing pie into our eye!

    Thanks for the read!

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