Pena

Pena

Her little head clinking

Like uh barrel of red velvet balls

Full past noise

Treats filled 'er eyes

Turning them yellow like enamel coated tacks

Soft like butter hard not t' pour

Out enjoying the sun while sitting on

Uh turned on waffle iron

Smoke billowing up from between her legs

Made me vomit beautifully

'n crush uh chandelier

Fall on my stomach 'n view her

>From uh thousand happened facets

Liquid red salt ran over crystals

I later band-aided the area

Sighed

Oh well it was worth it

Pena pleased but sore from sitting

Chose t' stub 'er toe

'n view the white pulps horribly large

In their red pockets

I'm tired of playing baby," she explained

'n out of uh blue felt box let escape

One yellow butterfly the same size

Its droppings were tiny green phosphorus worms

That moved in tuck 'n rolls that clacked

'n whispered in their confinement

Three little burnt scotch taped windows

Several yards away

Mouths open t' tongues that vibrated

'n lost saliva

Pena exclaimed, "That's the raspberries