give me a kiss

You. small stoned skipper You

flat snapped wire tapped

made of peanut brittle You

ding dong ditcher, emotionally. there’s

never anyone to answer.

what a waste. chronic sewer rats make

pacts to don hats and coats and

moonlight as suitors.

give me roses. promises

lie between buck teeth beneath

fat wanting eyes. present

gifts they have fished out

of street trash and

rewrapped, done up in bows

of shoelace and twine.

You, Mr. Backbone of a Bandaid in a Public Pool,

i formally decline.

cablebelly