Green Prada Hemp Side Bag

We spend a shameful amount of time scratching and licking behind the ears of models.
And whether it tastes good or not is of no importance
because we don’t even really know what we were expecting.
The new usually suffices to amuse us
for a while,
or at least until the next time we are not full to the point of exploding in the driveway
like my aunt’s fat cat did.

In an entirely separate sphere:
We spend a lot of time stacking our books
          with faces we recognize but cant put a name to
          until they let us under their wing and tell us whose shit they’d prefer to eat
Waiting under the chicken for the egg
Judging books by their mothers
and mothers by their tyrants …. I mean lovers.
Sylvia, you let him eat you out
of the picture.

The literati are just like the fat faggots
who stand under Andy Warhol
with Dixie cups
waiting for him to cum
while Jim Morison sells Ziplocks
of dessert sand
to the new age hippies
that stink up the stairwells of the Trent University library.