poor
patrick
he left his
manners
in the
freezer
he left his
keys
inside the
door
his eyes on
the camera
his face in
the sink
hands where
I can see them
hands where
I can see them
future lies
in knives
oh did I
say knives
I meant science
science
all that
simple happy-go-lucky
loyal
suntanned lamb-chop plastic
all that
simple happy-go-lucky
loyal
suntanned lamb-chop plastic
while I’m
pissing black seeds
through the
darkness
barking at
dogs
from me to
you
a duct-tape
a chair
full of white memories
a pool full
of mute evidence
of love
and my fripp
and my bonavox
and my
feeding on strangers
and my angstschreeuw
4 AM
and my
handmade evil in a glass
and my
hair-conditioned path to glory
is just a
regional variation
my chainsaw
them
my tonguescalated
them
whorenaments
for every home
welcome to
the seizure dome
my
eyesight’s fine thank you
my
mindsight’s fine thank you