No one reads them RAT KING poems no more
That’s why I read them outside your house with Larry
Larry is five foot nothing
Lethargic and bald
Busting out of Dead Dave’s Sweatpants
We knocked on your door twice the night before
And left you a soggy box of Rat King poems
Then ran away
Spent the rest of the weekend changing the tires on big mama’s
BIG BLACK SUBURBAN
Each lug nut so loose now
O god!
I just can’t wait to get it out there on Highway 77
Whip some donuts
Wait for them lug nuts and tires to roll away
Full moon in the rear view
What a thrill
O baby!
Larry neither here nor there
Don’t care
Thumbs through Dead Dave’s wallet in the passenger seat
Sobbing