Show Poem: Chicago, IL 4/7/16


A limitless talentless worm
Falls through our brain
Like a hot knife through butter

He’s a sky diver
The sun is his airplane
Falling through the planets

We are the worm man
Dusting off his coat and tie
Ordering a round for the locals
Squelching his tongue
between his teeth

Dead chicken on the side of the road
Sweet friends and sour beers

Waterfalls and dirt flies
Drinking piss out of shot glasses

Lot Lizzards on the prowl
Laying ruin to the most boring
Town in the world

Your back humps
Like the wood grain on a dinner table
Look under
Feel the legs buckling

No need to be rude
No need to pry
We all cry in our coiffee
Just a little

We use the grounds to mask
Our our illegal drugs
We smuggle them
across the boarder
We tie the bedsheets together
Lower ourselves from the edge

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