“your poetry is bad and you should feel bad” by Fran Lock

fuck you / with vampire lips, superimposed on your throat / you’ve come / to diagnose a lightbulb / with brilliance / flip a switch / these days / when blood becomes a camera / i take / a green light into / my pneumoniac lungs / i spin / a green air out / my mouth / worries a blue / nylon / length of breath / or no / the mouth is filled with fiberglass and garlic flowers / and your / alchemy is on me / hands / have smothered me / like ivy / you said / i was the headache you were having / fuck you / your ibuprofundity / fuck / your review / oh, sabotourist / yes / i could do this all day / seismic cry baby, i / baby, i / i, baby / they pack my head with you / the way / they pack a fish with ice / toting my low function / the acid has eaten the battery / misfired synapse plays patriot games / disorgasm / hoisting thoughts like flags / allergic sneeze of me / fuck you / a car alarm narrates the night / and i can’t sleep / you do not have / this view / this life / this poem is / punishable by / stoning / abdominal cramps / implants in / the teeth / you do not know / intolerant ambiance / a woman’s pain / is / a fat so what? / is / gluten’s goose-bumps under the skin / fuck / disassociate myself / i shape the things to come / you //

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