“I Liked Your Mud”
Your tattered pictures
disused lipstick
in the supermarket
of carry me along and away
underwear carnations
had a home and people that loved
send it by post
even when naked: still on stilts
don’t tell anyone else about us
your secrets are safer than me
fishing for cats with cattails
we’ll dress as frog women always always
it’s death in the queen’s castle
placing blue roses in bishop’s caskets
they cried this us our girl to graves
and all passion renewed
at the thought of this tired newspaper
you’re dead to me but so are you.
nicholauspatnaude 
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