peace (bonnie and clyde)

I wrench out my wires, say 'Hello' to my charred lung
like gutting a kiwi from the buttons of my precious, white shirt
and when I dump the scalpel to look you in the face
I'll take my fork forward and dig out your eye

until you wander blind,
until a mammal can molest your virginal orifice.

You, my one eyed pirate, look nothing like Johnny Depp
and do not dance like Fred Astaire 
you will not feed me works like Shakespeare,
but you will love me with your fists

and you will adore me with cigarette burns.
This is the life over our char-grilled Ticker steaks.

I carved out my gammy mind
and you shagged it like a raging Bonobo
leaving holes and white discolouration
until I was ready to insert it back to the flopping skull.

Glad with your contorted, distorted blushing bride
until I conform against your lies and pull out my fork once more in defence of virtue.

Stab.

Don't question the irritation in your back,
angel.

Stab.

Don't question the red liquid bathing your new  
pin-striped shirt.

Sear.

Do not question the triangular, iron burn on your crown,
baby.

We'll use and abuse until we find some other way
to say it's okay to love. God fearing and pirate-eyed
you intertwine your fingertips
with mine. You have a new sport in mind, a new game to play with thousands

of streets, with thousands of strangers
who can reflect our irritation at this lovely situation.
Armed with forks, we leave,
the door still swinging in the abusive breeze.