Pygmalion
Someone challenged me to write like I used to write before the rod entered my spine to walk me straight to the job that was going so
I would I like champagne & caviar it’s beyond my
budget but life is beyond my budget a little Lord Byron flows through her veins
& she’s the only one for me ideology works today despite its nonsense-value
perhaps because if we were straight up our pants would fall down my breath my
breath he gasped but her sex felt like “god” & the painting was peeling like
infinities on a wafer a lifer thought a snail a friend it was pleasant not
rushing for once
the songs ’ve stopped it said my dear you look a
little blistered or is that pistons? The wherewithal was combatant like the
moon & I swooned hence found out as non bona fide carrion for her lace that
framed her spider inside her & then the men of the slogan shot
automatically & rather only asked questions & offered nothing as to
their mood swings after all they were punchline drunk like blinded men.
Published & Copyright Malachi Doyle 2023.
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