I killled a rainbow once
trapped inside a soap bubble
crying to be let out
safe to say
I burst its bubble
I sat in the bathtub
and pondered late
into a warm June night
over that one line
Bukowski wrote
about people
being fully clad in rain and naked
in bathtubs and it didn’t
make any sense
to “artfucker1996”
but it meant a lot to me
to be bare only in the comfort
of our home and
shut the world and
its wetness out
another soapy bubble
sits in between my index finger and the bird
he cries for help
to want to grow up
and be like his late Father
God Rest Soapy Sam’s soul
But i flick my fingers
and the crying stops
I tell M that I want to
slit her throat and make
a buffet of her bones
and she thinks I joke
lovingly so
but there is melancholy
in feeling like God
A terrible loneliness
to be a rainbow killer
God of bathtub bubbles!
A heathen poet 