NEON-INDIAN

Just asleep she’s been waiting to creep for a long time Friendly eyes so small they rise from the waist line In dreams came callipygous things to my bedside And shrimped so she’s pullin the plugs to the outside Like the days when lovesick haze chemical fried Lock your face point to minimum waits friends to decide Mostly nights when your perfumes hide to revive On all my soup we caught in the tide (terminally chill-neon indian)