I hate Kevin Bacon

Roses are red
violets are blue
Fuck you
I hate Kevin Bacon


(by popular demand)

Breastfeeder

Two men are led to a prominent, well-lit

table underneath an elk’s head.

One carries an impossibly large

infant three times normal size.

I know him. It’s not his child. He

drops it on the thick, lacquered

table with a thud. Flash to

the man now shirtless, picking

up the baby, cradling it to his chest.

It balances on his corpulent belly,

squirming and gurgling close to

his breast. It’s suckling. Like

a tea kettle’s whistle, I

explode. I pound my fist,

rattling dishes and glass.