It is only after you hand me a beer spiked with eyeless dreams that I contort crunch arch my back unnaturally a howling spitfire kindling in my sternum my retinas glowing black as a grudge all the better to see you with my dear horny for the taste of pennies and plasma on my tongue I pull your d*ck out stretch your useless sword into banana Laffy Taffy and string it around your neck your eyes bulge tongue wagging like a Looney Toon while my hopes and dreams of aging properly sprout from my back feathers red as lust I’ll never feel until years from now when I am able to meet my reflection in the mirror and not feel shame thick like molasses pour out of my eyes but now is not that day now you scream because it was you who wanted to impale me not the other way around but I shove my blood manicured fist down your throat to shut you up Pabst Blue Ribbon bile gathering in your gullet because they’re playing my favorite song downstairs you know Sweet Caroline ba ba ba you’ll hold the taste of my talons in your jaw bone until the day you die you will never speak on it who would believe you you’re just a frat boy in a ratty Hawaiian shirt who was looking for good times never felt so good so good so good so good
CATHERINE SPINO is a writer and a couple sandwiches short of a picnic. Her work has been featured in Hobart, HAD, Expat Press, and more. She is from the East Coast.
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