talk dirty/gay (birthday present placeholder pt. 3)

everybody reload-

...i like it when
you talk ‘dirty’
to me

even an unplugged
clock can be ‘right’
twice a day

i’m gay

my father will say,
at my funeral, ‘i
loved my dead
gay daughter’

but in life, he hates my guts
and wishes i read the bible
more- or jest became
fodder

for his ‘holy empire’ fires.

‘enter the dragon’ and holy
rolling empires; watching

bruce lee

makes me
want to
eat

‘chinese’

to be
able
to

pick the rice up
with chopsticks-

you taught me how to dine
in nice, semi-expensive
restauraunts....

i’m not sure if
you are even
aware of it/
this

but i’d just watch
what you did/talk
like you talked

to the waiter- i
even learned to
tip from you,

luckily, for college students/
single wo/men across this
continent, across the u.s.

you were a good tipper-

thanks, by the way;
how are you
feeling

today?

i’m not really doing so
okay; my tummy
is killing me

do you still drink
that nettle-tea
concoction?

i wish i weren’t up for auction-
i feel like a slave standing on
a modern-day auction
block

for the broken-hearted;
some type of like
‘rehabilitation’
facility or a

half-way home or something
and, well, i’m for ‘sale’
i’m ready to be bid on,

only thing is....

nobody wants
this

mess

i am forced to call
myself

on the phone, on my
cellular/mobile tele-
phone

and leave messages,
i even send myself
texts

cus’ well, if i didn’t
nobody would-

i do not feel so hot,
i really don’t feel
that good...

uh oh

spaghetios...