iced tea

the mood board is a dream
of sorcery. all the thumb tacs i keep
in my cheeks. what is flesh but
a backyard trampoline? you look at me
& say, "don't let this become us"
as we pass a house without a door.
sometimes i consider buying you 
a planet for us to make out on.
then i check my bank account 
& i am too full of myself. i am too
eager to be a dragon. there are 
more men in this world than fire exits.
what i'm trying to say is let's not
tell too much of the truth. let's not
claim to eat pudding when we're 
eating blood. the knife collector
knocks on our door & promises
that he has a great sale for us. 
there's nothing to do but run
& try to quench your thirst.
as a girl sometimes we would brew iced tea
by leaving it out in great jugs in the sun.
i wanted all my "girlfriends" to be girlfriends
which is ironic because now i only really love
beautiful boys. let the angels spit into the leaves.
crack my spine for ice cubes.
a postage stamp of splenda. 
drink until i have a headache forest.
"this is delicious" i say while pretending
to swallow whatever moon we've milked
to make this day. i have never once
lied to you. whenever i lie 
it's someone else. a falcon on my tongue.
i can't be blamed for what happens
after we are quenched. this is our
backyard fib. this is the rotten oldsmobile
& the wiffle ball bat. close your eyes.
"go touch grass," 
the electric prophet instructs. 
there is no grass so we pretend.