Back booth, Blunderbuss, to my balls:
Breathing nostrils congest 20 years of schooling in each breath

Limp past meadow
With houses breeding like rabies in scar,
Flora/fauna diversifying at the patio to draw out 18 year old punks into a gun fight.

–“This is why we have parental guidance”
–“But, father, the sluts do not evaporate after curfew”

Into town,
Welcomed by Rangmati symphonies

Spaghetti stare,
Jazz drum cues at knee caps,
Locks of hand turn to butter,

“The knobs of Havana radio don’t work no more, kid”
Counted, The Gallows outnumbered the rosaries.

(Cats and dogs, Kichuri nostalgia, Carom board dinners,)


Some ’90s electro clasher busts in,
As I bid goodbye to my membranes, hanging on the Saloon slammers.

“Yes, Ma’am as you will”


Photograph: Post Box Entertainments 


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