Friday, June 7, 2013

poem of the day 06.07.13

punchable kinds

young boys
ages twelve to fifteen

walking brooklyn streets in packs

hurling plastic ice tea bottles
and invective my way

are the most punchable kinds of people out there

if only there weren’t laws against it
i’d beat the shit out of them
in front of their little girlfriends

shove those middle fingers
straight up their asses
until they come out their mouths

before dragging them home to their parents

so their moms can cook me dinner
in their underwear

while i watch tv
and drink up all the beer
in the place.

as their fathers spit shine my shoes

and beg that i don’t do
the same job on them


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