Recycling Rage Correctly Until it’s Everyday Garbage Collecting

+_+_+ 
I’m moving down to Florida with Tottenham
against the midnight cowboy score and
starting a podcast called Men At Their Core

I made a movie for and against God what the fuck did you ever do
Only it’s not made yet
I’m still waiting on that bucktoothed starlet to find me in the black-and-white night

My gayest characteristic is how openly disgusted I am at the sick man sitting next to me in delta comfort class
I hope he sees my fingers typing this
Opa, there was his glance
That’s right, you sniffling cunt
You’re on my livestream now
No NyQuil and mask????

Yet everyone is supposed to forgive me for
the things that Dr. Jung knew
Except Dr. Jung didn’t know them at all
Only in retrospect did he get
Gladly certain of his Curses
Way after the snot of the crisis calcified into an ill, red book

This sick mf I swear to God
I will heal him

Tottenham drives a white Lincoln town car through the unbreathable LA air, purifying it with his
exhaust.

I call him from a broken up bridge in palm beach
on my way to shit in the Atlantic.
Together we’re Peter Fonda’s character in Escape From LA
Chanting “tsunami, snake!” in kamikaze camaraderie
the last tidal wave of guys like us
I have been thinking lately
That I should no longer be so silly

Mia C screams and cums when I sink each pool ball,
Punctuating my game.
Now that’s a music I could get used to.

Back home, you chop your movie into bricks of sound as the door pounds.
The marks have awakened to your loud meditation
The marks have come to stare me down
Delivering a subtext I can’t yet write
Down
Belly
Shake
No
These are the words my dog back home knows
Romeo is a good boy according to the best hoes.

Recycling rage correctly until it’s
everyday garbage collecting
Come as the man you are
Not the Malinois behind the gate
of beware of signs
tryna act all raw.

+_+_+_+