Dumb
I hate it how
The men spit
“Huera” here
Steaming at the mouth
As if its syllabi
Lie
Like a tropical fart
Locked behind
The teeth and
As if my blonde locks
Had spelt:
“Instant”
“Diarrhea mouth . . .”
And
then there’s also that
“scht” “scht”
Noise that parents make
To call back children—
I gots me some news hombres:
I ain’t no infant
And despite your grunts
This ain’t no crawlin’ spree
That you’ve the right
To wind me up. |