Peter Patapis

Two Poems

Bradhere they all pretento exist? You're such a bore today. en your third ey

e. Maybe you're just too hi. .Hey Brad if you chuck me that lighter I might yum you yes Brad I ring bells and enjoy caboose uh huh yup I swarm macadamia mountain and knock 'em all down


You are such a fucking ferret Brad you are a ferret named Ms. Ferret fuck you Brad I will order a blue icee at the movies if I want to I'll buy popcorn too and I'll share I don't care I didn't tell the big bang to happen and my poems don't exist for you Brad


Oh but your caverns look so delicious so divinely black and smoldering and blue I don't want you soggy in the sink I want you all the way down on me Brad will you buoy me or at least generic hug me








Tipping then flipping then smashing into the café window where the cat on Prozac lounges in the sun, the roller-derby size queen—I mean a dream to work with, to access


the lost pulsing feeling with— found an antidote to the healing process: canned beans and the wet of the mud’s seeping through my polyester! I was too


eager, and that’s a peach tea! Take it slow now, John. Take a breather. I don’t care if I finish last. I just want to.