untitled

I wish I’d snapped my bubblegum at
your morals before I knew Golgotha
I fled the coop to Stumptown in search of
Peace, the state of Empire n the union
And sought out shadows of New Victory

I laid on your step of the staircase where
Bakelite parachutes spoke psychologies to
persimmon afternoons in the personals
Aren’t we disgusting me yet?
I’ll scrub my tongue with East River water