the tits on rice and oats and soy and almonds

if i was a fly would you let me land on your wall,
i would like that.
to survey your world from that vantage, out of reach of your uncles morning newspapre,
fucked off cause he couldn't get his hands down your skirt last night.
do you think you'll run with me,
i was a traveller before i met you,
and your wall.
the stale cigarette comes from the ashtray, it almost colour the air yellow
amarillo
my wings
my facet eyes
your world
my crisp shell
electric blue and little hairs that smell you,
your skin and what you were doing last night
escaped here and took a walk around
took a walk around just to see
see what was going down
down town
my eyes
shut
.