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.)
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