Desperate Sex in the Aftermath of an Eviction Notice

Bad fucking days come
they sniff and rut at our backside
come in and lord it over
give no shit about our days
evil bastards claw and grab
on the take for all they can
perfect wad of cranky lust
lashed to days of boom or bust
missing pieces
to puzzles never been
hatred to them is time abided
normal faded colors in sun
what more a comparison
like beavers in jaws of beaver-hounds
hunted families unlodged by clowns
run baby
swim baby
slap the surface scum with your tail
a hurt like what might have been
but on the surface much less than all what was
predictions come 20/20
once the past has gone to pass
into future what will be is gas
dispersed from pin-pricked skins
fallen into autumn barren as spring
winced against pain
pound and knead the dough
although you don’t want it
there’s still nothing like it though

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