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It tastes better when you say it like that

Break me like banter
right across your knee

wear me like the tread of tires
bald
busting with gnawed metal wire

i'll whisk you
like cake batter
dip my finger
to taste

crawl
like in a cabaret
at curtain call
you're my final number

be my water runway
i'll be your Cessna seaair 208
making sky approach

you be my alcoholic
i'll be your all day happy hour
with top shelf liquor
in the tall glasses
go ahead
take a drink

chevron to my direction

the "pew" noise from my Tommy gun

fiberglass
asphalt shingles to your roof
so i can guard you from the rain and sun


Written by samael (Zaroff poetry)
Published
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