Porcelain House
by Sean Kilpatrick

I found you in the porcelain house
pulling a condom over the window.

You only talked genocide.
I faked hearing loss.

I rode in on a kite shaped
like you picking flowers.

You built a harmonium just to spite me.
I primed my diaper for take off.

You folded my stomach into origami.
I chased you with my freckles.

You were ugly like a calculator.
You chased me with your kilt.

I was ugly like a fish make-out party.
Do things for me.

Hug my blanket until your veins are trapped inside.
Slurp away my big static eBay hands.

When you kiss me you leave tiny
question marks of spit on my face.

I'm going to leave an army
of cakes on your grave.

Also by Sean Kilpatrick in ActionYes #4:
The Idea of France