Harvey Sleevemaker

Soak up the sun! Soak up the sun! Soak up the sun!
Shout the chancellors from their high horses
Where on earth do they get such high horses?
Whipping the vomiting slaves in the streets
Relentless whippings for the non-soakers!
Tenacious beatings for the don’t-funhavers!
Serious bleedings for the bored-claimers!
Knives to the face?
Spiders to the crotch?
Mild slaps to the genitals?
Men
Named
“Gordon”
up the butt?
Bruises on my unspeakables.

Harvey Sleevemaker stands up.
struck down.
bled out.
fucked up.

God, I hate my babysitter.