Shem

Salt bust. On a pedestal. She comes in, climbs on a step ladder and pisses on it, melting its visage, coloring it.
Bust of vegetable. She comes in, eats its face partially off.
Bust of meat. Same.
Bust of clear plastic. She comes in, climbs on the ladder, opens the top of it like a tea pot, shits in the bust’s head, replaces the top. Wipes her asshole with the name tag on the pedestal, returns it to its spot, climbs down.

Show me down the far way son
Shew me a down a far a way
She me down a right fine hood
A far a way a road to home
Shem me down the only time right in far bad too whalfor
Shet me so
Shet me so in
Shet me so in so in so in
She last I heard broke bread and such with mister ’pon the old hut floor
In outside there was no rain just the sound in wind
In after still there was no rain a spider caught mist in the mind of her web
Nothing dripped

The other says

You wan share my only?
I give it you you know I’ll want it back, after time is done
I’ll mek you force me take it back, when you love it most too.
But that was our only choice, when it happen.

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