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

hell is wasted on the dead

can i go back to my vacation now   please?

my woundedknee is turning green

my soulhole rapidly fading to black

i want my money back   fuckers


among my deadmother’s favourite sayings was:

hell hath no fury like a woman scorned   father’s

early death comes to mind  but that is for another  poem


today i rail against the vacation dreamfactory  SHAM

come to our  dushi  land  fall in love with pigshit on the

beach  with rubble  +overeating🐖


with the scrim of pinksunsets   +permabliss snake-oil

then be crammed back onto the plane  masked+strapped

in  (do u flush the toilet paper?!)


arrive in 40 below  tan fading to a hepatitis glow  sit in your

park  +wait  for Godot?  for the fucking resurrection of your

newly dead?


then tread  dogged+sunshrunken  thru rivers of hipster dog

shit  back to your  forever  family  who berate u for not offering

bagels crumpets +such  before you’ve even unpacked



Curacao 2023 year 3 months!!..oink oink


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