blazing shark

i am in the prime number of my life

only divisible by one and myself

i show my math

but i leave out the problems

exposing organs of love and lust

like an old man who is still young

wearing trench coats in the blazing heat

5 o’ clock shadows at 10am

i smell like bukowski

but taste different

 

i taste with tongues too wet to kiss

and too dry to lick

i pray at altars

in the back of rooms

hiding from saints

with names like yours

 

and my favorite pieces

are the ones when he was happy

when his writing sucked

but he was finally free

we can finally write about relief

as if it were romantic

peace is the new anarchy

freedom is the new slavery

and dirty is the new clean

 

i am a relief map that has no relief

only bumps and grinds

where the roads all meet up

and the highways burn

lighting the way to shangri-la