i can’t wait until she
casts aside the neurotic discarded
carcass so we all can learn the hard way
the horrors of heteromonogamy.
maybe that night i won’t have to
eat a whole bag of swedish fish,
listen to the smiths,
shriveled from lack of trysts,
write satirical poems in lists.
when i get my turn at dismantling
marital bliss, revolutionary rivers
will run gelatinous & red with abundance,
the proliferation of queers,
the modern loaves and fishes mythos.