12-10-2025, 03:56 AM
In Mashed Potato Mountains
The vagina laughed at my ass
as it puked,
a laughing crown, dented,
no lotus in sight. I was born.
A walking smile, I learned
sadness through the classroom.
I aced each test.
Mummies snug, smug in fear,
live exposed to death like old men teeth
and jealousy to love.
I'm younger than the muse:
inappropriate inspiration:
Can live on blushes.
I'm not the undead but the living
living. This body no tomb,
knowledge and truth Get a room!
My scar harem is well-fed.
My tower an unmanned path.
But O the mother didn't laugh,
her silly partner forced to knit
its own hunger. She found her laughingstock
of a son no laughing matter.
I searched for other smiles,
finding leftover dinners legal
only for nonthreatening fowl.
—I found God a puerile pimp.
And though I wore my happiness a tent
in all weather; there were Signs,
with victimhood and guns,
hung upon the rain
I breathed.
Each day became a street, a town,
a wind I called New God:
the Earth floating like an arrow around
no target. I loved a girl,
sang songs without meaning.
It is truly the distance between nothing and nothing
that is the heaven and the space
that people like to call a race.—
I'm in no hurry. I walk the steps of my teeth
something to something.
Signifying.
The vagina laughed at my ass
as it puked,
a laughing crown, dented,
no lotus in sight. I was born.
A walking smile, I learned
sadness through the classroom.
I aced each test.
Mummies snug, smug in fear,
live exposed to death like old men teeth
and jealousy to love.
I'm younger than the muse:
inappropriate inspiration:
Can live on blushes.
I'm not the undead but the living
living. This body no tomb,
knowledge and truth Get a room!
My scar harem is well-fed.
My tower an unmanned path.
But O the mother didn't laugh,
her silly partner forced to knit
its own hunger. She found her laughingstock
of a son no laughing matter.
I searched for other smiles,
finding leftover dinners legal
only for nonthreatening fowl.
—I found God a puerile pimp.
And though I wore my happiness a tent
in all weather; there were Signs,
with victimhood and guns,
hung upon the rain
I breathed.
Each day became a street, a town,
a wind I called New God:
the Earth floating like an arrow around
no target. I loved a girl,
sang songs without meaning.
It is truly the distance between nothing and nothing
that is the heaven and the space
that people like to call a race.—
I'm in no hurry. I walk the steps of my teeth
something to something.
Signifying.
