I saw a lake
make it into your dream. It was weeping all along the bedpost.
I never seen a lake act like that
and I saw a bumblebee fall from his
home in the rafters
the hole in his laughter
done him in. Poor that bee.
I’m writing in some kind of vernacular
that’s not even my own, just to endear myself to you
am I not endearing?
I’m a fat married girl
and a mushroom cloud
a downright doom boutonniere
blooms behind me all over the lake in your dream but
the bees’ bodies keep filtering it out, as well as
the presence of my parents
and my sister’s bride’s parents
isn’t it nice how everyone’s married and fat?
I love big cars. I fucking love to stuff them up my cunt.
I feel so much tenderness for you
as you sleep...