Cujo had thought more meat of you.

I did not read your song.
Or rather your mixtape lyrics.
But the last paragraph,
and random streaks
wherein you, a DJ
speak between tracks.
That is where one finds you
in all that wealth
of superfluous text.

You’re not a machine.
Human after all.
You come off flustered
for someone anonymous.
450 14th Ave N APT 3
St Petersburg FL, 33701

That’s my address, Clever.
That is how intimidating
you really are to me.
You’re gonna break.
I’m not gonna try.
You’re just gonna break.
Now check out my ocean.



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