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.