I WISH I HAD THAT ONE-WAY TICKET TO A 

CERTAIN GARAGE, SEATTLE. I’D SAY I’M 

A SEAHORSE 

TO CATCH YOUR ATTENTION. AND I’D SMACK 

YOU IN THE FACE SO THAT THAT SHOTGUN’S GONNA SLIDE 

OFF YOUR MOUTH HOLE LIKE 

AN INNOCENT SAUSAGE. I’D COOK AND WE’D 

EAT IT. 

(“Thanks, it’s the sh*ttiest food I’ve 

ever had I love it it’s so sh*t that I can’t have enough of it.”)

(“I’m sorry it broke your front tooth.”)

(“Nevermind.”)

NOW YOU’D BE AROUND SIXTY, FAT AS A

HOUSE OF CHEESE WITH ROACHES IN 

YOUR MOUTH. I KNOW LIFE WAS THAT ONE ROACH IN 

YOUR MOUTH. BUT DON’T WORRY KIDDO 

(I’d call you kiddo),

WE’VE GOT STRAWBERRY ICE CREAM. BEST ARSENIC IN THE WORLD FOR 

ROACHES AND US. 

WHEN I SIP COFFEE I THINK 

ABOUT HOW IT HAD SHOT YOUR TONGUE. YOUR HEAD TURNED 

INTO A BLOOD VORTEX AND I AM GRAVITATING INTO IT. I ENDED UP STUCK 

IN YOUR RIGHT EYE SOCKET WHERE I GOT 

CHOKED BY THE LIQUID FLUIDED FROM 

YOUR EYEBALLS. 

(Don’t go I need you I'll give you my strawberry milk.”)

(“I died before you were born. And don’t smoke.”)

I GOT NO ONE TO SHARE AND MELT THAT 

ROACH WITH STRAWBERRY MILK (it’s like

acid, the strongest). SO WHEN I WIN 

THE POET LAUREATE I’M GONNA SAY “FUCK YOU ALL.”