January 25, 2010
By , Reston, VA
Something inside says to give in
some little black goat
with one glowing red eye that it can't conceal
and one soft tender one that is there to coax and woo me.
It hobbles inside of my brain
It's baaaaahs tinted with masochism
and a mock enthusiasm,
that echos in the parking lot after school,
when the rowdy boys talk about tonight's party.
Its two-toed hooves cemented into my heart,
cemented into my habits.
This goat is half of my image,
Who would I be without it?
The innocuous look of its bushy little tail
is highly deceptive.
It can steer me with a violent forcefullness
into you, Maybe?
Into her, That's a tired game.
But Into that bottle of 12 dollar vodka,

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