21 winona ryder

“ride her, winona ryder! ride that bitch”

throw bits of embroidery string and monopoly money
falling erratically into the cavern beneath my feet
streaks of lightning fall onto winona
she tries to saddle up on a mastiff bitch

I see her bare her teeth at me, a smile perhaps

“no! wiNona ryder!”

I scramble down to prevent her from biting the mastiff
“arm wrestle me, you behemoth, female, goddess!”
i bet she saw that coming

arm bulking, arm hulking, I bare bare twig arms
twig arms finished like a cordon bleu chicken breast

the glory of the cavern is irrelevant
minus the moss, chip away the curtain of sunbeams
side-eye the trickling pores of the slate rocks
like a virgin pocket of the planet

and winona ryder and I arm wrestle
elbows embedded into the 17th year of a tree stump
glorious toadstools, moist, glisten beneath calloused heels
it is a miracle we survived this endeavor

winona ryder and I in a cavern

—–

I wrote this after I was done watching that Shia Leboeuf video… because I am hopeless. And a genius.

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