KIIT

Shoot s. Thompson—desert fire storm
out into frowns of clownsand butterflies,
HAHAhaha I die
tonight on the forgotten snow
and torment and gunfire
and Keystone light influenced
make-outs.
Barely out the door now
as I fail to skip to my
salvation.
HOHOHO I yell:
maybe the soil in
my blood stream will
evaporate into
kitchen stools!!!
Cough and puff—
Here I came:
made it to see a long-lost-friend
that couldn’t see me
in my dreams tonight

Oh my,
oh dear—
paragraphs out
of functional
excuses.
I lay to the shadow
of loose hairs now,
as I come to the
crosswalk,
of 3rd and
fake street.