Sunday, March 15, 2009

however decisions must be made

You forget to strike one little coma,
suddenly you are the perpetual idiot
smiling at his own damn face by himself.
But I promise there is no lowdown
or down low. I promise there is no download.

Comma.

Expression on my own face turns blue
as I kill myself in an apartment unit
just outside the Gotham Comedy Club.
Should be charging for this crap.

"Is that what you want to be now? Fro?
You want to be a stand-up comedian?"

"Over the internet."

The woman I love laughs at this thought in
her shower. She does it while lathering up,
gently massaging her own amazing breasts like it's just butter,
so damn sure of her direction in life.

It is all I can do to remove the potential soap
from all the pathways of

the Queen.

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