Sweet sticky stuff.


For Mr. Q.


If I knew you’d like it
or, at least,
wouldn’t mind,
I’d throw cans of paint
all over you.
I would tattoo your limbs
in pastels,
braid pipe cleaners into your hair
wrap them around toes and fingers,
paper-mache your face
with coffee filters soaked in honey,
pure honey,
straight from the comb.
I would seek out a bee keeper I trust
to supply the sweet sticky stuff.
I would lick the honey to the filters, and the filters to your face.
Lick these to your face.
Lick your face.
If I knew these things would
tickle smiles;
if this would soften your gritted teeth to a smirk,
I would do these things,
or these kinds of things.
I’d take a hose to you.
And do it all again.

Written Tuesday, May 27th, 2012.

One thought on “Sweet sticky stuff.

  1. if i’ll base the poem to the title itself, well, i’d thought of something.. but when i read it, it’s something haha!

    just kidding.. nice work!

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