Slurp

I know the man's name
the one who's talking in the back of the room so loud
he tried to be my friend earlier when I first walked in
he explained to me how he was different
I didn't explain my silence
as I bought my drink
and loaded my camera

It happens to be his birthday
tonight and I'm taking pictures
of you who I love on the stage
while the man whose name I know
speaks and speaks and speaks too much and too loud
back in the back of the room

so that all I do is imagine
how I want to kill him.

It goes well with your music-the imaginary killing of him

His name is something Irish except
he's black
and he thinks I'm pretty
and maybe he masturbates like a fat man eats chocolate
or eats chocolate like a fat man masturbates

maybe he's poor or has Herpes or wets the bed or has a dead mother-things
which would excuse him for being such an inconsiderate
shit
but I want to kill him anyways
you play
his voice
I slurp too loud
hoping my slurping
will mask his mouth.