Friday, November 13, 2020

day THIRTEEN HUNDRED and NINETY SIX

ALMOST NOTHING

Hey junior...

how does it feel
to have daddy's hand
up your asshole so deep
he can actually move your lips
to speak his words?
we're not buying it, pal
we can see
what's in the background
what you're trying to block
with your big fat head
and your slick black preacher's hair
we can see the vultures pecking
at yesterday's one thousand corpses
we can smell the sour milk stench
of lies and death
as your wooden teeth chatter
"Move along! Nothing to see here!"

--Brian Rihlmann

 

 

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