Jen Juice

The smell of the piss saturates
the inner voice I hear
when I sound out like the thought
of those anti-his-ta-means.
In an old-fashioned lullaby
Of his dirty thoughts
And selfish needs
Who knows – maybe
That one day may own
Him like the day he spit
In my proverbial face…
And that’s what I call….
Fashion.

This entry was posted on April 8, 2011 at 9:24 AM and is filed under Jencerpts.. with tags Poetry, Pucker up, Rawness. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.