"It's about words, and words are all I have…"

my brother wrote the killer line in this poem*

i was never free  not for one second   well maybe

writing a poem at Bacchanal in Nola  husband+a bro

drinking ghostriders  then later showing Monk Boudreaux

my pocket pig🐷


did u know pigs represent fecundity  big time?   piggy

banks   just a bastardization  of the fecund goddess

pennies from heaven?   or worshipping mammon?


*(here comes that killer line)


but  if i cover my eyes  can u still see me?   can u see me

cutting the last cord  that keeps me in captivity  umbilical

first cut   then quickly fused to matter   final cut will be a

fucking rodeo


with Mark  the Rifleman’s son presiding   + Rabbi Monson too

he who said: every year after 70 is a miracle!   and also

during my Jewish divorce:

if he wants to remarry   he pays half   no free rides  


but Rabbi   i cracked him open!   Monson grabbed my collar hard

 if you give it for free  you slave in a kitchen  

husband in question has yet to claim his ghett


so should i charge him?  or ice him?   if i cover my eyes  maybe you won’t

see me collecting   the schvartzgelt   this poem is not PC


Winter 2021


*JMA married in the same basement room of my ghett should begin his memoir posthaste

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