The Date

Pulling teeth seems more appealing than the squeaky reeling, the howling experience, of the flogging date I had with you; like catfish to bait. Cracked my skull wide open. Can’t think, can’t explain the straight pin lobotomy I received from a kiss, which, at first, brought cosmic bliss. I thought my rocket expelled into love space rather than Hell. Had I known what I know now, I would not have kissed the cow. (A metaphor for the U.S. involvement in Iraq.)