the t-shirt

 i put salt on the catalpa just like they did 

         i wore the jeans everyone else wore        i wanted to wear the same shirts as they did too

but i didn't have the money too

                                                            saying what i wanted to say lead me too 

be made to submit to the one who wore the right shirts and played the right songs

         she had a motorcycle        she had a music band where they played all the songs everyone 

needed to hear                     she got her cunt licked every time she wanted to have her cunt liked

               she was better at tennis than me when i was 13 and she was 30

                        she couldn't teach me how to play the piano because i didn't already know how to play

the piano                                 

                                   she had a cool electric guitar that she never played    and       bought with the funds 

christians gave to god                        its 10 percent plus an offering so that she could afford her cool electric guitar

         and only showed me how cool her electric guitar is but god forbid she taught me how to play it

your not supposed to help someone that hasn't afforded the right t-shirts  

                                            so i bought the right jeans and opened my mouth in speech

but i haven't bought the right t-shirts yet         i'd make a t'shirt in woven pedestal pleasantries 

           wearing it backwards if thats what they thought was cool       to afford a t-shirt

  then wear The t-shirt as they do.    walking to a welcomed pedestal pleasantly 

                                   and play her guitar when ever shel let me          

                        too                                                 while wearing The t-shirt

they wouldn't call it reactionary because once you have the shirt everyone who matter wears 

    you wouldn't want to take it off it the shirt                       you've made it after all

               and wearing it is the point                                  especially when other people don't have it

 if i submit to her enough she told me i would earn it

if i beg her enough she told me i could earn it

if i collapse in front of her broken   mouth open           in pieces by her noble  belly button.   wills  

                     denying me 

     whatever i could think of     reactionary

                      offering everything i thought it would take to get it

and that will be the end of it               collapse lung servitude 

                   she told me she would be there to pick up the pieces and then

i would finally be ready for the t-shirt 

                        i could make a bearing north to Salisbury 

planking double barrel shot gun earthen wear pellets   breaking every time i pulled the trigger

                         and burn a candle to get rid of them all

                                            but little did i know they own the candle makers and 

if you'd ask then they would say fuck the bees

        but i've gotten off course this is a poem about t-shirts

                                i would smoke camels and listen to french music 

check out the do if you want to

                  but i smoke lucky's and listen to the do

when its hot you don't have to wear a t-shirt      open my windows and feel what i'm supposed to feel

       when i cook i cook and think what i'm supposed to think 

                                    what she wants me to think 

in oder to earn the t

shirt       sometimes i think about how i was 

wanting to speak my mind and make my own shirts         

now i love her and 2+2 equals 5