grow.



 

she said "grow up" through a crocodilian scowl

how odd, he thought

for his growing had no particular direction - he just grew

 

and anyways

she didn't know him

sometimes he spoke fluently in fahrenheit

completely unstable monosyllabic combustion

instigating the great sino-american endangered pandamonium

inciting that dream once had about nothing that never happened

calculating the mathematical ramifications of selling out

increasingly more paranoid than paraplegic paramedics

worrying about acrimonious accusations

worrying about fixing undamaged commodities

worrying about pterodactylic amniotic washer fluid

worrying about failure of cardiac connected jumper cables

worrying about koreans selling their seoul to the devil

worrying about being forced to be fascinating on command

worrying about whether or not dogs can get rhotacism

worrying about the shine of the sheriff's star on his chest

worrying about psionically swallowing traditional han

worrying about who let lance armstrong buy sickles

worrying about this big fucking key in the center of his back

worrying about worrying about enough

           or too little

                       or just right

           (sharing a bed with a baby bear)

but don't worry about him, he didn't worry about her

he’d seen the acres of graveyards in her closet

the addictive properties of ethanol, tabasco & firearms

the blasphemous action, jean-claude god damme it

the perpetual pretentious presentations

 

and he laughed

and he said to her

through a crocodilian grin

 

           - just grow