Dysmorphexia
roughshod bastard teeters
a stale basket she felt
the prod rape paper cup
the morsel brass tacks
swallowed back hanging
by neck in closet by wardrobe
necking the walls of scraps
newspaper debris wicked
on the floor sweeping
cane from my pocket
concealed from closet
garments of exposed fashion
alleged legible leg stockings
snug on the pregnant calf
heavy petting in a pen surge
that slithers past a military call
perforce the future of story
the tall tale talent of recipe
off burnt kitchen shavings
tomorrow’s phantom stomach
digesting the throat of a
pinky’s curled over grope