cletus crow – 4 poems

CHRISTMAS EVE

snow fills my footprints
as if i never walked them
in this way i think of death
we fuck like there is
some future worthy of children
you get a blue notebook
i get a violent videogame
and vintage playboys
tomorrow christ is born
but not really


MAN'S WORLD

before circumcision
this dick had a little hat

at hooters
i order fried chicken breasts
and it's awkward

near ocean
either one used condom
or beached jellyfish
vibrates with the wind

my headstone reads
balls exploded
badly

they inevitably saw
you in sheer stockings


COOL SLUTS

She says clouds
resemble mountains.
She could hike them
if she were god.
I can't fall in love
but I like talking
about sex and death.
Apparently my words
stick with her.
She reminds me of green.
Not like snot and vomit.
Like grass and ivy.
We're becoming friends
who want to fuck.
I write poems
to figure us out.
She shoves a water bottle
up her pussy
to feel its shape.
My dick isn't better.
It can't hydrate as well.
I regret this.


HEELS

you buy me man-sized heels
for drag

red white hustler brand 

i wear them to scrub mold
off the ceiling 

i think 
godzilla doesn't hate skyscrapers 
they're in his way

your mouth is at dick height

my feet hurt 
so maybe i feel like a woman
superficially ofc

catch me when i fall 
so i don't break important bones

you look ant-like from up here


CLETUS CROW is a writer.


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