when I wake up beside you in the morning
I feel like a slug
pass the salt please
when you say bingo in the tongue of a tapeworm
I don’t get the lingo
but I know what you mean
you mean bingo

I’m a slug and a tapeworm
and most probably buzzard food
and if you feel sorry for me I don’t mind
I might even think that it’s good

neuritis and neuralgia
detritus and nostalgia
are things we could all stand to give upt
you go first please
like two famous lovers on the brink of disaster
we polish and then we corrupt

I’m a slug and a tapeworm
and most probably buzzard food
and if you feel sorry for me, fuck you!                    
I won’t ever think that it’s good

Kosinski Polanski
Soapsuds and Comanche
subsets Polish and equine
and the habit extreme
in a jackrabbit’s dream
his ears are feathered and fine

I’m a slug and a tapeworm
and most probably buzzard food
and if you feel sorry for me I don’t mind
I might even think that it’s good


Copyright Hills Snyder, 1993