06.10.04: New design. Got rid of the art and tape trading sections since I don't really trade
anymore. Lots of new poetry.
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"Poem (the Backwash One)"
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Everyone says that they don’t backwash,
but they do.
You drew out four lines of meth
on my kitchen counter and then you said
“I should drink some water”
and you backwashed into my glass.
See, you left the goddamned razor blade
there and went back to your house and my parents came
home three hours later.
I greeted them at the door and the dog jumped
on my mom and I glanced to my left
saw the razor glint on the dark
blue of the countertop, right next to the backwashed-in-glass.
I didn’t drink any more of the water
cos, well, it’s kind of gross even though
we fucked a few minutes after
we blew those lines. My mom asked
why there was a razor blade on
the counter and I had to make up some excuse,
like “I was peeling paint off a palette” or
“I needed to get tape off the window.”
Anyway, I called you later that night and
your mom said you were out with Trish, your ex
and I lay in my bed with my pillow
over my ears for about four hours while you
probably had your tongue down
Trish’s throat and it was four days before
I put that glass in the dishwasher.
--Molly Herrick 10.29.03
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