Sunday, November 17, 2002

The Backward Cannibal

Five seconds after you leave,
I want to obliterate every part of you.

I had asked you not to go.
Not even screaming
concentrating on my fingernails.

Now I down your beer and
half-eaten pizza so fast
I can't breathe.

I flush your hat.

The toilet burps and soaks
my pink carpet red.

I raise your favorite mug to smash
but it slips through my fingers
and breaks my foot.

Finally, I have a reason to howl.

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