Darlin’,
sweet darlin’,
I want to bite your ass.
I ain’t sayin’ that’s a start, or even an end,
or hell, a goal at all,
but I had me a dream,
‘n it was about the only good from today,
and it was you,
and it was me,
‘n angry,
‘n satisfyin’,
‘n just, just–
I’m all ache sagged muscle,
‘n, ‘n, 4000 calories of stubborn,
tellin’ strangers truth ‘stead of tellin’ you.
Hit that wall where manners die,
‘n burned fingertips on the do,
never the, never the mind,
never the mind and never the pain,
the do must get done,
‘n they ain’t goin’.
‘n I’m smokin’ though you hate smokin’,
‘n you’re smilin’, ‘n I ain’t smilin’ back,
‘n you’re sayin’, but I ain’t in the talkin’ mood.
Darlin’,
sweet darlin’,
though I ain’t told you you’re as much to me,
I still want to bite your ass,
but a man’s got a limit,
a person’s got a limit.
When I been working the 9 to 9,
when I been doin’ thrice my fair share,
when I been doin’ the hard fought gettin’ by,
‘n I got baby boomin’ pantomime patriarchs pretendin’ they got half an inklin’ what I been doin’,
‘n shakin’ their heads in that dissapointed way.
Darlin’,
most folks, they got this fight or flight,
but I always been fucked,
nature just gave me fight or fight.
I don’t much listen to it,
that Wellbutrin fuckin’ my blood pressure ‘n all,
but I got bloodlust,
ain’t the same as berserk,
but I ain’t for the givin’ in either.
My point is,
darlin’,
I want to start at your calves,
‘n bite my way up,
’til you got indentations in them perfectly toned cheeks,
but it’ll have to wait;
I got some folks to have-it-out with first,
no worries, love,
ain’t a thing to do with you.
The tumolt ain’t tollin’ for you.
