poppin’ and blowin’ hearts out

my gingham lips kiss you miss your drama

I’ll be hacking up clotted spoons

licking off the clumps while my mouth

tastes like Sunshine Yellow

Dad’s grave still smells like vodka

I checked last night and vomited on his bones

the cuckoo saw me and started laughing

so I flipped the bird and waited for him to choke on my pill prescription

that I hid in the birdfeeder

I remember Mommy saying Molly’s a slut

but Molly keeps her legs shut, she goes crazy for tongues instead so I keep

her crooked body tatoos in my iPhone to

remind me not to be a fuck up like her

she’s got a bag of Candy swingin’

back ‘n forth—colorful party favors

she even got the ones with those

cute little images engraved in them

and I admit it’s tempting, her party tricks

but I’m winning the rat race

no matter how many times

I go back to the Brodifacoum

boy, I love laundry, doing clothes-lines

make me Happy, which is a synonym for Sad

which is a synonym for my house with worms

we make a toast to the new neighbors

a lovely little ladybug family

and we drink fine wine until

I hate the gap between my teeth

and sure, I could chew a piece of tile ‘n all

to keep me from having an ex to see

but I bet somehow I’d still cross my eyes

and dot my T’s and pollinate with bees

so consider me to be Egyptian Blue

that chemical motherfucker, whoever it was

who built the pyramids didn’t think about

Little Third Grade Me who saw my Dad grab a pair of scissors and go for Adam’s apple

so when the next day Sally sold me

acid and counterfeit seashells

I snapped her ugly pencil neck in half

then she said to go off myself

and I ate her rib

that’s what you get, now I’m Molly

and I don’t have time for the bear at my door

Oliver Twisting me, pissing me off

playing card games under the eye

of a cigarette smokin’ and chokin’ me

I may go back to the Brodifacoum again

I know I said I was eco-friendly

but it’s itching at my cornea again

oh, the sights you see

oh, the places you’ll go

my busted pus polka-dot lips miss you kiss you

and now you’re like the tatoos in my iPhone

fucked up