Banana Slug Tongue

Indy Nile


Too much tongue
Drips down my throat
Banana slug
On a childrens slide
On the stickiest summer sunday

Playing a drunk jock,
Death slobbers all over me
The slime of slurred speech

He’s speaking about stifled screams
They’re now rolling on down through me
(not nearly as fast as i’m rolling my eyes)

I imagine them washing down the banana slug
Grimy children at the top of the slide
Bucket of water fountain water in hand
Knocking it over in one fell swoooooop

Death’s on his knees
Grips my waist
Ear on my stomach
waiting for the echo
Poor kid at the bottom of the slide
Hands cupped sloppily
Only for the scorching heat to eat the water before it could ever wash his (dirty) hands

But of course they sunk inside of me
Slowly, without a splash
Dissolved so effortlessly
In the pit
Of my stomach

head’s still on my belly and
Your hair is running with grease
And there’s a sunburn on your scalp

Do you know your sunburnt there?
Or will you wait till the peel of it is caught in your comb

I bend and kiss you there
Faint smell of a slug stagnant in my spit