Tuesday, October 31, 2017

Aztec Ruins

Civilization born from myth
The look of mayhem in your desert island eyes always keeps me coming back for more
I’ll never understand why you don’t like your tits

I want a doughnut, but not one that the powdered sugar gets on my fingers
I want you on all fours, but not because I think you’re a doggy. In fact it has nothing to do with me wanting you to fetch my L.L. Bean slippers
It’s been pointed out to me that my poetry objectifies women and for that I am very sorry even though nothing could be further from the lactating truth

Civilization propped up on kickstand-banana-seat-lies and the inhumanity of another festering-ego-sore
Jack was right, “You can’t handle the truth,” so stop acting so high and mighty because when you fall the damage will be colossal
Nobody believed he would win and when he did all of the racist scampering cock and cunt roaches came out of the deplorable woodwork to stake their claim in the primordial mud

I want a cup of instant coffee that doesn’t taste like Juan Valdez pissed in it
I want you to stop pretending I meant nothing and for you to lower your draw bridge and welcome me back inside your Hello Kitty scandalous reprimands
It’s been brought to my attention I leak like a sieve and that’s probably true because I’ve always been full of shit and my holes have always been bigger than the Scotch tape covering them

How about we disappear into a jungle book of our own devising?
The kind of neighborhood where you ask no questions about the bloodstains on the carnivorous walls
Was there ever a time you gave me a second look or was that all fabricated because you were bored and sad from having just lost your dog?

Charles Cicirella

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