today:

she was an ugly fucker,
sideways rain,
and gay men holding hands in the middle of the street,
with their shoelace all stepped-on.
and snails don't fall asleep with a smile,
when molested with salt,
but rather curl up and shrivel with with birthing pains,
of a baby elephant,
the story of the sweatpants boner,
in the jr. high locker room,
and grandma's drifting to sleep on the corner of the couch.
and all the people who taught me magic tricks,
have crossed their arms,
and looked away with dismay,
and today is a day for hiding under blankets,
with a familiar face or atleast a african voodoo mask,
reading a book and
letting our bones dissolve into eachothers,
like a fifth-grade chemistry set,
where the blue smoke swirls and
the green dissapears,
with a doo dum dee,
it's time for a rainy-day ticker-tape parade.
and i've carved the date of your birthday
on the palm of my left foot.
to make sure i don't forget.
and we'll watch as the two men fuck in the corner stall
and take us down to the bathroom floor.
and i've found you.
but when it's all done,
i don't want a casket,
urn,
or
burial at sea.
just leave me sitting
in my favorite chair
the one where my body
has made a mold
and leave the television on,
and keep the lights low,
and the episode of frasier that we once watched on repeat.
until my skin all melts away
and you're left with a scientific skeleton for study.