THIS!
This nervous bitch of a full moon.
I have to lift my head up
More than halfway to
Just to see it’s belly.
This moon
Pouring bleach
Over the surrounding stars.
I smell trouble.
Get out your rubbers.
The best pot you have.
Crack that rare scotch you have
Hidden in the back of the cabinet
In the basement
Behind the coffee cans
Filled with loose nuts and nails.
Hide the carving knives
In the kitchen.
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