Aluminum Eyehole

     Open me,
     don’t be scared,
     come on,
     tear me off
     in hopes
     of a fuck token,
     like those silly
     seventh grade superstitions
     that were always a bluff
     cowering away,
     a puppy
     with no particular owner.

     Flick me
     across the room
     with a synchronized
     snap of your fingers
     like when you listen
     to that upbeat
     Millencolin tune.

     I can hit
     your friend
     in the forehead,
     he’ll return
     the game
     we play.

     I am aluminum,
     a dog tag for
     your Coke can.

Belated Punk Rock

     Laundry money
     Bust line
     Razor burn
     White boxers
     Wounded puss-puss
     Futon family
     New houseplant
     Dead cat
     Old Truck
     Live show
     1st Street
     Bass line
     Face burn
     No money
     Twelve ‘o Eight
     “I love you—
     I fuckin’
     Love you!”

Ashley Pettibon is an American writer, who has had an amazing life as a Christian Scientist. She received her MFA in creative writing from Antioch University, Los Angeles. Her husband is a real man with a mind, body, and soul that she likes to get into 24/7 through metaphysical means.