Ur Tits
you come in tell me of your night like the boys all stared at ur tits I tell you I hate your job not you you
think I hate you okay I say but if I had a book it would be called marriage and the uncontrollable
narcissist and then I tell you I quit smoking pot good you say you are better when not when not the pot
you say I finish a sentence I quit smoking pot unless it is the first thing I do on a Friday morning now
where are those tits
Vacation
we fucked up our fingers
on the beach with footballs
in each other with malice
now we set in fake splints
as we sat in the sun, as we pink and we set
what we can, what we know
alls we need now
is some fucking Tylenol
