CLOUT LOUSE

By -
So sick in sebaceous seersucker
I stand before your ye: PRONOUNCE
an unsimple judgment: BLOW
your funnel through my whiskers & I will make a snowman
outta your skin flakes with skim milk,
watch me construct a monument
to your moment, watch the long hard hit
to center field, then drop, inches behind the absolut billboard
which sparkles in glitter from the tears you shed underneath your desk as you heard that one song play on
the radio that one time with the thing & the place, while you sip the suds off your bud--

I’m implanting crystalline bodies in your iris sheaf, son
Adapted for sucking

I scream at the base of your lip, small
persuasive & removable only with proper
ecologically friendly cleaning products
you haven’t even heard of yet.

Fill me proper with names
you name, I’ll fuck with your sexual
rivalry, I’ll find a house you didn’t know
you wanted to live in, hostess you with cute
cakes & puffballs & bioluminescent pixie sticks.

Pubic lice came from gorillas & this is really just a service
announcement that your dandruff is offensive
but tealeaf-y.
& I, I am your steadfast Frère
your organizer your watcher
your FuckFace in the dust.


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