The Gift

Red cough syrup
will clean your head --
hell, it'll bulldoze it
with a perfumed glaze
of letting go and blending in --
chill, and let the evening
work out it's punk mathematics.
Those dirty little critters
are just making out
under the lifeguard's fat ass.
Don't worry,
soon all of the helpful machines
will be humming your name
under your window while
a bunch of flowers
will burst into flames
with names like "Cheyenne"
and "Tubby."
And then, when the smoke has cleared,
we'll write those names
on slips of yellow paper
and lick them,
a lot, for fun.