the artificial smell of korea and crippy
mixing together in the confluence of dirty nostrils
plagued by the stigma of degenerate birth
slides me back down a blue denimed leg
trunk of a garnet goose eating stale goldfish
and doritos for lack of more sustenance

i’m still limburgering my life for her
never having distributed villainy to nemeses
none my own but to impress crimson comfort

she knows about spaghetti, and i know of
gargling, but the knowledge of our
commonalities ends at points suburban
on the queer watery bed with no scarlet sympathy

we are kindred in failure and conan
lying tangled in black leather fancy
to the ruby rhymes of rivers and adam
sipping chick drinks in sunsets down
futures tied to blue collar dreams

we haul around eleven stone bags
chained to our fractured ankles by love and there
waiting for locksleys to key us open
and lighten us enough for lucid levitation
hers by handsome fate and mine by constraint
of choice run ragged by the dance of red

i have many willing keys but none that fit
that fucked up lock