bruce the spider

bruce is idling, finds a small cutlet
says that’s a most legitimate no name steak
i can spot it like any dirty cocksucking
scandahoovian
bruce is waiting on clientele
and one particular

says which and says who?
these questions from the back office,
where alexi runs shop
he has around 30 grand, a paunch
a floating kidney, and a sawed-off shotgun
it ain’t easy running the show

bruce is in bed, thonging his ass crack
he wipes a bladed hand through his ass
brings up the pinky for smells
a sweet waft of man, though the taste
is sour as all get-out
bruce is high on dextro, which makes
him the opposite of a fraidy cat
he’ll turn any goddamned trick, presently

jesus fucking christ! from a known room (benjaman)
his jon is as savage as a stagecoach driver
this is all known and documented
last month the jon left benjaman hanging from a knob and
apologized over voice to text
benjaman is on the hook for debts with tireless duns
thus he is open to all things
he can’t hold a nickel
though he nurses ‘em

bruce’s overly diligent student arrives early
accordingly, bruce bags his sunflower seeds
and covers himself in a potion of oil
his new jon is a manager of some variety
he likes to bark orders
which fascinates bruce on account of
childhood trauma

after the show bruce bleeds a channel
the toilet bowl is like any other
a full moon, a stinking roundabout
bruce heads for his sleeping quarters
which alexi nets rent on, with scruple

bruce is over the hill
he recalls his first line of powder
during the first season of the real world in san fran

bruce wants his penis back
but he hasn’t the money
and in any event, the doc said NO.