“I can fuck any bitch I want”
Rattling off foul consonances and vowels
The terrible mantra boys
Chant off in the school yard
Like throwing mud on the third
Grade sweetheart
That makes their mother so ashamed
Ironic
They can say these things
Off the cuff
When the father
They’ve never met
Sits at a bar in Mexico
Says the exact same things
About their mothers.
We know how it feels to sit
On top of the world
And spit on the creatures below
Like birds on a telephone wire
Waiting for the one wearing
The worst day
To add insult to injury
