Grill Paste

hey bud­dy, what’s up
with your loco
motive? you think
you can touch her
and make her want
you? you think
because you’re big­ger
and stronger and
creepi­er she should
give it up to you?
or you’ll what?
tie her to the tracks?
twirl your mus­tache?
I’ve got news for you.
you’re the one roped
down.
and i’m the freight train.


I hate hear­ing about women who’ve been sex­u­al­ly what­ev­ered by dudes. Makes me furi­ous. I’m a pret­ty calm guy too.

2 thoughts on “Grill Paste”

  1. i agree. i think the mid­dle sen­tence start­ing with “you think” might be a tad too long. i like the short-breathed, clipped sentences/questions and that one does­n’t real­ly fit.
    but this poem is “boss” as you would say adam.

Comments are closed.