Apple Pie

We load our rifles and fuck until tomorrow

We have grapefruits delivered to our doorstep

We discover a shell on the moonstone beach

We fall over, laughing at the midget with a lazy eye

You look for apple pie on the menu, but settle for ice cream

You wear underwear today

You pull in your stomach after swallowing the ice cream and say “I’m fat”

You look at me with your eyebrows and I tell you, “you are fucking crazy”

I mention something about seeing a dolphin last year about this time

I care about whether or not you believe you are fat

I don’t care enough to tell you that I care

I become a god in a dress dancing on a unicycle near a midget with a lazy eye

Everyone tells us we “are fucking crazy”

Everyone smells like jasmine vine and I think immediately of your neck

Everyone gives blow jobs and you think of me and your knees, but mostly your knees

Everyone sings like diamonds in the palm of a psychic

Bear tells me to stop punching parking meters

Bear growls when I tell him I don’t buy honey any more because I feel sorry for the bees

Bear brings me a river in his paw and asks me to smell

Bear gives good blow jobs, for a bear

Where am I?

Where is something to wear?

Where is the house?

Where is the wolf?

I think I hear the piano playing

I wish to god in a dress dancing on a unicycle near a midget with a lazy eye

I take off my head and ask you to stare because it is the sky

You are a rose, perfect, without aphids.