Sunday, July 17, 2011

Revised older poem

Memory Of Mary Magdalene

I met you for the first time at Laura's House
after you swallowed every pill in the bag and fell
off the balcony. Someone in the room called you
one crazy mother and they were right.

Outside the Emporium I would wait outside
as you drove by everyday,
leaving my stomach fishy for reasons
only my pecker could answer to.

I heard a rumor 
you had your 
clit pierced when 
you were fifteen. 

No one knows how old you are,
but the whole school still wants to fuck you.

You must take great care of your body.

Not like me,
today my diet consisted of six scotches
and half a bag of Animal Crackers,
which I stopped eating 
after I thought I heard one of them scream for its life. 

What kind of life is it to be trapped in a 
bag all of the time? I guess it's no different than my life, 
or yours, even. You, more than anyone, should know that
we are all breakable little animals, waiting
to be devoured completely.

Mary, I wish you 
would drive past me.

Bludgeon me
while I'm sleeping,
dreaming of your 
wild brown hair

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