eyes, spiked pearls, befriending testicles
sucking meat loaf through a sewage pipe
tipping the night owl bus machine with pennies
to have motivation for stealing hobo smokes

she is a flower with a gun, blooming
stitching the corpse into an immortal wall decoration
drinking water from a cup with a hole
for the humor of pretending that it is vodka

why is she nude again for such small reasons
when for all the reasons in the world
she would not even listen
to the infrequent swallowing of saliva

grey sky moans like mother, and she plays along
a branch on the horse that is perversion
culminating finally in a puddle behind the dumpster
where the wrinkled hookers used to reminisce