End of Act II

Promise me I will marry like metal fuses in an auto wreck; twisted and melded into an unknown form. Let me dance with a niece like a lime tangos with the effervescence of a fresh liter of tonic.

Abstain from capital punishment when Im convicted of forcing carnal knowledge upon May. Kneading my semi-flaccid member into her waning daylight and splaying a nut upon her multihued fresco, grant me a reprieve, because Junes post-coital nature lets me know its all a sham.

We can wander amicably into summer and treat happenstance like cohorts greet each other in postcards; short on words due to the lack of space, conveying our meaning in innuendo and wanting to fuck because of the postscript.

Treat my day to day like having to turn the stereo down on my favourite song. Add a u to words that can accommodate one to let people know you can b in the right if you really want to b.

With Julying to me as always, Ill try therapy, and waste my energy and credit on trying to paste it all back together. Her days and temper have been growing shorter for weeks now and my will to lie is surmounted by feigned indifference.

Cooked alive in that car wreck, grilled to the steering wheel because I was wearing a seatbelt on you insistence. I screamed for my mother while the steam from my last breaths fogged the spidered windshield.

Ill divorce August and cite irreconcilable differences. She can take half of my money, cause I aint got shit. Double my negatives, because I was this tense in the first place. Triple my bets that my rebound with September, ends in the grave that my car became.