What I Owe

New Jersey blasts by
and Joe punches keys.
Sam talks about "gay music"
and am I the only asshole?

*

Stoned at the Sanctuary.
Whiteness whacky and contemplated.
I talked to the tallest black tran.
I'll pay what I owe someday.

*

Molly's Books where I brought guac chips,
where I drank beer and ate cornbread,
where we talked about subversive second graders,
where Jack never put on Little Richard.

*

Stoned in the room is a plunger
shoving me into the sloppy slit
like I'm nine and it's Christmas
and I just have to jerk off to the Internet.

*

What am I doing gagging people
while Philadelphia rots, wound afestered,
and it's true I like muffled voices,
and it's true, I love shutting up.

*

The black homeless man
has dry, cracked skin around his eyes.
When you look at something that's like a river,
hate yourself for not looking at all.

*

Let's get this party started right.
Funk and freaky, stay up all night.
I'll be munching on a cell phone
thinking about asphyxiation.

*

I was taping the top line
in the gymnasium's entryway.
The barbecue sauce exploded all over
and I wanted to force you to lick at gunpoint.

*

If I were a drumline
tapping kinetically on the wall;
if I regularly had seizures
and partook in grand anal sex schemes;

*

At one time in New York
olives equaled broc equaled cheese.
When we're done with mozzarella
let's design Mr. Potato Head interchangeables.

*

I threw a highlighter at Sarah
and took a swig of Yuengling.
I threw my head down
and took my favorite burp out. Burp.