candy

if your clitoris tasted like licorice
my eyes would be smiling not speaking
the stoners in the parking lot rehearse oblivion
and couldn't care less about the days' insatiable
appetites
(worm dust or
gallexies in smithereens)
if your wrinkled nipples tasted like fried aluminum
insane asylums or
a tropical strength mosquito repellent that can't stop laughing
in the panting chattering or something else distracting
we'd just jingle and get along
but the parking lot won't last it used to be a tree
until it rained poisoned frogs
everything is a miracle until you kill it
with your shoe's tooth
look at the moth perched on the rim of the moon's reflection!
you taste like cherry candy in a box from a factory
a factory where your mother went crazy