They’re not supposed to be Disney magical,
Tinker Bell’s pixie dust, or toned down to PG-13.
They don’t have restrictions.
They are raw, filthy, rebellious
exposing the flesh of a prostitute
like John refusing to wear a condom,
because a real adrenaline rush is chancing
whether he walks out with a sexual transmitted
disease or not.
They are simply made to leave an impression
that blasts through like Ryu’s hadouken
letting everyone know that regardless
the waterfalls of words spilled
from different oral cavities
at the end of the night
everyone is just
a bag of organs
that function
the same.
Previously published in Kleft Jaw Press Spring 2014 Issue 5.
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