we were kids throwing
dirt-bombs and grenades torpedoed you stitches and bitches
like, like you know... ink
hair dip woods cut branches touch forts
in forth grade collapse- now blueprints fail
to fail.
entropy draws on hearts draws pupils tight too tired to fight.
you screen- print
deers and doves and deer dying wood nymphs on black alps.
cute.
i measure and cut i want
to measure and cut you. i want to build you a fort
i have to measure this beam i want
to beam your smug drug naivety.
some of us never grow up some of us
never get over it saying these things like they're different