Your Mom Bakes Some Bread

Mary, mother of nations, thanks to you, the seeds are overflowing, endless, like a wave, multiplying, into infinity, thanks to you, heaven, and hell, gods, and demons, we have everything, pies, and pieces, these seeds, keep sprouting, they learn, and they grow, consume, consume, all that they can, become their own tree, extending into the horizon, reaching for the skies, each child, the river flows, a god, in their own right, take from the light, take from the night, shake it, and stir, your own recipe, for a vanilla latte, choices, questions, and skill allotment, level up, what kind of blasphemy, have you always wanted, fifty shades of grey, eat more, and more, you just can’t get enough of it, this fat bitch, bred, and bread, there’s enough beef, and milk, for everyone, it’s a miracle, such is life, magick, and the rising sun, always dreaming of it, your lovely mom…

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Red Peonies

French vanilla latte, suburban neighborhood baby, the pastor’s daughter, is the sky still blue, children still riding bicycles, all the flowers and fruit, so much grows in the garden, so many fish, fill the oceans, such soft skin, the road is smooth, is it tight, your brother, and your uncle, happy birthday, we grew up, got a tattoo, that’s life, ready for the night sky, my tombstone, and the moonlight…