afterparty

i’m obsessed with
all the wrong things
whatever you avoid
i eat with my cheerios
what you call mundane
is my gay parade
got my freak flag
flapping away
got my license plate
says this car
has no breaks
ol’ hunk o’ junk
worn out dawg
gets me through the fog
so i can pray to allah
as i make my way to the top
as i taste the first drop
your sweet kisses
dancing on my tongue
gonna be wonderful
xmas this year
at home watching johnny cash
and calling josh from texas
continue our tradition
proud poets
running wild
this must be
the after math
of the after party
right before
the after life