I dreamt I was making babies with my mother on a stove-top,
No, no, no – not like that. What filthy minds abbreviate details into tales of Kings and Oedipal seashells,
We were cooking tiny babies, the size of tofu blocks, on the stove-top,
Juicy, succulent, fetuses, at least a dozen, simmering and stewing in one pot and one pan,
They’d been ordered from Netflix,
What a kick, what a kick!
Called customer service, but I didn’t really want them to live, how would my mother and I take care of a dozen or more kids? Turned up the heat,
What a way to live.
Monday, 15 July 2019 00:50