Notes #5

Notes #5

I met a girl last night, wearing a floral print dress

And gauze around both knees.

Jill fell down a flight of stairs

While intoxicated,

Dulling herself up for a night out.

I don’t think booze was always the bastion of hope

For disconnected introverts

That it now is.

I met a girl this morning, wearing a hospital bracelet

And a confused face,

Wondering how she got a MIP and her stomach pumped.

Road Head

Road Head

Rigor mortis hit the carcass like the car.

Escapism encapsulated his pupils

Her fingers tightened around his belt loopholes

It had been thirteen minutes, since the bar

Twenty four minutes since, “you look just like [insert movie star]”

In the passenger seat, she swallowed her scruples

The chicken crossing the road swallowed the futile,

Rigor mortis hit the carcass like the car.


No heaven for road kill,

Heads bob with the bass lines tunk-tunk,

He punches the roof, punches the gas

Greed’s lupine eyes drink their fill,

She rotates so passing headlights may see her ass,

He bursts, animal blood trickles out behind the trunk.