"Don't Let the Bedbugs Bite" seeming swinging, yet clinging to life left dreaming, hanging off the side of the mattress about the 6 inch blade on the hunting knife and worrying, concerning myself with the cookies wlf peering down from my shelf with all the stupid little things that you said things like, you shouldn't bring your pretty trick ponies to bed oh, and, do you need to be watered and fed? why don't you tell me what it means how these things right or wrong meet at your seams? why don't you show me, no, tell me just how you feel like it would be so easy for me to break the safety seal a reason for the seal, my life on hold for the passing seasons or two, while it was waiting on and on you bleeding out, dying, skins turning blue now the rescues, half-hearted and few what a pitiful lifeline you so righteously threw the mattress again, a most unoriginal sin the lost soul to win you sink crossing the infamous river take cold and shiver, it's time to deliver and the room, spinning now, I let go of the side and wander down the halls of how how, the blade, much sharper now, susie wears red and she say, I'm afraid what an intricate, albeit cliched be I have made the goose, with its down, stuffed around the coils sticks her head from the box springs before the bedroom floor she soils awkwardly, easing its featherless body from underneath wings of skin spread, beating furiously against the sheets miss spider, you are crafty and look lovely in books but you lie and then bait a mean, rusty hook you are laughing as you sew, at this untimely mingle at all these clinging singles things still, curious beings you stare with your many eyes, seething we share the same place of rest, she jests your hair is a mess, surely you do confess? do I look fat in this fly dress? she has obviously forgotten how to eat her guest sticky, salty, sultry cricket's song let go, it's harder hanging on devoured once and then I'm gone Stephanie S. Garcia August 13,2004 |