Poem with Kennings and Nuka Cola
Tender lions bodymeld under the pomme tree.
Is this a way of speaking honest?
Irradiated wastes and a bottle for your parched throat.
Somewhere, the Partridge ghosts blareback from a broken screen.
I’m sorry, love, for the rosewounds (I thought I had been tested).
I’m sorry, love, for not buying you that nice couch.
Kaboom my chokehole and I will sing for you.
That is, I am out of caps and need help limping.
Jesus-Mary-Magdalene let me come back a ghoul.
I want to be your shadowtouch on a bad day.