Domme Song 7

It rained the whole time but you zip-tied me
to a chair, so it all worked out. Green world,
peculiar tabernacle. Blake had a fear of wheels.
Please beat the big dumb feelings out of me.
There are the bugs you’re supposed to kill and
the bugs that eat the bad bugs so you spare them.
Which kind I am is TBD. I went out to smoke
and it smelled like Kansas and I became
a ’72 Ford Granada blowing down backroads,
a blue boat tethered to the white sky. I
was a plastic movie, a bad kid fist-pumping
his way across a high-school field. God,
I used to be a whole animal at home in space.
Now I need to pass by. I said I need a new door.