nobody pray for me-
metal feels the realest when it sits in my palms
when i'm the one pumping out the red mars
dirty blood into the dirty water.
with real milk white bones glistening
under the autopsy camera flashlight
(take a picture of the crashing,
he looks handsome in the casket)
with the arrow spiking up and
the red lights flashing green.
maybe, maybe, maybe, maybe,
a flatline will be the double-edged sword
with the double popped hips
and starry skies
spilled all over
this starry city.
