"the farmer theory"

and, how many days has your
socialite hand flourished?
black fingernails have found their way into
your breast pocket;

the rustic-plaid flannel
with ragged holes on the elbows
has endured all your
cadaver mistresses, one
by one.

and oh,
whatever happened to your
stoic nature?
epicureanistic tastes overwhelm me

this frame
black & white-
you add red.-and white.-and blue.

personable natures are so alien in your bubble and you don't know how to cope.

maroon petticoats flash
above my knees,
and your geisha
-hungry ice-eyes forget your place.

i like to paint my fingernails black.

what do your all-american levi's think of that?