:: Article

God * Country * Family Triggers My Meat

By Will Burke.


I am a charter school in May.

chip me a bagel dear, I’m hungry.

and tired of selling children

to the lowest bidder.


if we took our bikes

2 the sea side. u’d want

2 drown somemore.

relief is predictable.


lecture the cold weather

on thriftiness and restraint.

my popsicle is hard.


I hate yr hornicide.

bt can only participate.

w bashful fever + compliance.


milk’d me day.

slump’d in2 air.

spent the lettuce

looking @ the pavilion.

the art was real

real horny.

I got no finger

in u. till


which wants

ground beef.

+ horse radish.

my colon collapse.

is hilarious.

meat funny.

My worry pad was too hot

2 try anymore. that’s

a complex of comply.

I left yellow. for better

grays. then gave

into stealing. the junk.

we r sober that ruins.

a good line of wishing.

can u berserk. I pushed

my land in2 trust. curs

such a want 2 demon.

a book is a handshake

or the colon’s pride.

or whatever. or whatever.


I found yr A staple in my chest.

pepper my cunt. with diamond studs.

lick a lit candle.


I rode a big horsey Indian

all over your faces. until we shit.

in a blinking red hole.

then laughed until

we were drunk.

and hungry

for fried eggs.

and skinny toast.

w butter.

one mush value the family.


The scrub rote a belt loop over

my coughing cock-sure. blame.

the refrigerator for drying water.

in the sweet potato soup. icelery.

is an isolate. I can only b a capitol.

in corporate exchange. the pussy

room gives up. early in the week.


I know what I feel like

blowing balls over dandelions.

+ a squinty sun. shaved tight.

hip on my hip. dream of my dream.

skinned like a skinless pale of ice.


I’m an effeminate dish

a jew killer. that’s what I sd.

inspite of g-a-g-god # 1!

I know what I hate.

bt I know what I ate.

that could go viral

work it out baby.


i gave my gestures

a bunch of hi-fives

and my lines

a grouch of heroic

defeats that smelt

like I’m a defecate.


in sandal stains.

ma summer shrunk.

to a black polaroid.

very capital stalls.


1 day I discovered my face

bashed in + my teeth loose

+ falling like popcorn from

that popcorn vending machine.


my diploma arrived.

my hefty girlfriend fed.

ten-thousand dollars.

+ still live my days

waiting 2 re-die.


the wall of amphibians


Will Burke is from Portland, Maine. His chapbook The World Is Full of Peasants is out from Slash Pine Press.

First published in 3:AM Magazine: Saturday, January 19th, 2013.