45*21

I count on fingers the dogs age
pump myself full of little toad stools
The diabetic needle of my childhood
weren't mine but a Bebe
and she was unaware of the frog torture
and why the hell would I ever throw bricks
at cars
I blame it on the Catholic Church
The day in day out ritual
that in the end, rots your soul
Someone's got to be forgiven
for something
It makes you bang fists so hard
listen to the bones break
What a calamity we come in to life for
Bare feet in tall grass
The dew is beginning to evaporate
loud engines in old cars
A muscle generates an ache
We pull ourselves from the grave
and told we are to behave