All my enemies use JSTOR
and check shit
i don’t check shit
i make up words and say them

i get drunk and incant
i come up quick
to fever pitch
and stay there far too long
wailing in tones of limpdick and guttural pig

“sit death row, hollow hydra
shake in dada dance and disquiet
stay near backpage n spit out soot
then slam the screen door, 
back n forth”

 

and down, like misery’s shadow 

slow, slow

to a shallow tone

and up again