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humanity, it tastes like MAG
your jargon is everywhere; dangling from the chandeliers, wedged between my teeth.
i hate your ultimatums just like i hate the skeletons sinking in your closet,
if i waited and watched would the tigers and their lovers come out to play?
my alphabet soup has only vowels, your refrigerator magnets count only to five,
and my piano keys and arteries want only to burst.
i checked under the coffee cup but the juice wasn't there,
and when you told me the fridge, all i could find were your bones,
cryogenized like smiles.
your jargon is everywhere; dripping from the sky in venom and clarity,
buried by the coffin mother nature despises.
abuse is a five-letter word but so is vacillation and you can only check one box: yes or no.
the giraffe's head doesn't fit through the window, and when it nibbles on your ear
you tell me to make it all go away.
today i am playing hookey with gunshots,
counting the stars through seven layers of your best rearview mirrors.
your jargon is everywhere; scribbles in the margins, tattoos on my ribcage that say letters but not