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Catform

Legless, with the powerder puff

you've got light, still cannot read

and the mattress is two bored-out eyes

supposed to be a lightening bolt

but as I lie in bed

it's been middle class

middle thoughts, middle as Ctantric forms of intercourse

no divorce, drunk as a horse

and the waitress is the only one

who can speak and say what she means

as I lie awake

it's been Camelot

I can a lot, it's kennel and key

as she's waiting

stroking my hair

choking places

stroking my tie

princes with the dollar eyes

morning fries and light-up TV

and advances in the sweater vest

picking homes, picking out cheese

as i lie to them

second wallabee

second son

what happened to me

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