two new poems.

You can’t see the rain anymore
But I still see drops in the puddle
I can’t feel it on my skin
The shit I’m in.

They’d fill your museum
with the parts cannibals use to pick their teeth
too many fingerprints underneath
your skin, the parts that they won’t eat
the shit I’m in.




I’m never gonna die
At least not tonight
No not tonight
Not tonight
Not tonight
Not tonight
Not tonight
Well, I might
Boy, turn around, fight fight.