First and Ten

Frank Guan

I'd also like to get back where it all began.
My home away from home has other plans.
You're pretty, Chelsea said. I'd like to be your man.
Come guzzle and discard my empty cans.
(The only place we'll really get off is Iran.)
Iran is asking for it with those huge bazaans.

Bazaars, whatever, everything must go.
Androgynous cruise missiles long for blow.

It's irresistible, the way we can't resist.
Imperial propaganda makes me queer.
I was a woman once with an enormous cyst—
The globe was but an echo in its ear.
This crisis/opportunity can not be missed!
I cried. Where are the Syrians of yesteryear?

The only human being at my birth
Is me: I mean to dominate the earth.

The power of my forms makes me superior to.
The fire I summon captivates my friends.
The world I rescue is my rubber and my glue.
My multiple entendre never ends.
The Empire metaphor makes me the part of you
That speaks. My baby's got the Beamer and the bends.

Coke is it. You come too. You have no choice.
An aircraft carrier becomes my voice.

In lawless thawing Russia Edward Snowden faps.
The ghost of Alexander Pushkin stands
Upon a gorgeous horse that gallops over maps
While speaking choice Italian with his hands.
A Kendrick phase—I'll kill you all till I collapse.
I'm after Peter, Rome, New York: fuck hinterlands.

I'm beautiful. Bow down before my clit.
I'll be good. All I need is one more hit.