blades that whirl

AIR FORCE MEN!!
MEN THAT FLY MACHINES!!

(hear me out)

you can say you love
any man who sleeps by you
his fat shoulder says nothing much
but dinners and engine oil

i am not angry
not so much loved (as)
getting someÂ sleep
now aware of these hands

(here comes the huge, important “theme’)
hands along me:

hands are grabbing
hands i have to hate much
hands ripping shirts and pants
hands stroke handsome kitty-kats

hands slipping down into my throat

i cannot throttle down
my raging blades that whirl at you

i’m a cutter
i’m going to cut
i’m cutting up you, yeah?
i’m going to cut the world apart
i’m cutting you apart

like my new Â chicken dinner

men are from the Air Force
prodding machines that fly

now new saints are framed:
arm-stumps
leg-stumps

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