your boyfriend smells like HOT GARBAGE (demos)

by Butch Barbie

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1.
should i come over... your boyfriend smells like hot garbage
2.
there's a looseness in my jeans 10am came like a heart attack i took a shower and i didn't think of what you're up to i'm making art from garbage 10am came like a heart attack nobody's coming over it's called self care or something i bought a loofa and i'm not texting you back (girl you know i used to love you in a gay way but ever since i bought this loofa i'm taking 5 showers a day and i don't think about you except on the weekends and certain weeknights i'm clean as a whistle it's a little excessive honestly) am i a nutcase or was that more fragile than we thought it was? i'm drinking tea and i'm fine alone i bought a loofa and i'm not texting you back
3.
Boyle’s law, party of maximum occupancy? It’s my party and I’ll cry if I want to Crop tops burlesque storming the threshold to evade the storm the tornado in whose face, on the way in, we spat. This July, with the city coughing up bullets, the faucets oozing regurgitated lead like mama birds, minimum wagers, factory butches, part time musicians settling into their stoops like effluvium in a sea salt lung, like dust from a bulldozed crack house onto its neighbors’ roofs, like strangers dressed as photons filtering over my threshold, out of and beyond the storm, Boyle’s law the way the small volume doubles, triples the pressure. I have gathered you here tonight into a knot, into an un-untwistable braid, to declare a state of emergency, to climb up ropes made of the person in front of you. Turn that person in front of you around gently then sling that sexy schmuck over your shoulder like precious cargo, cock-a-hoop. Shake their hand tell them a name break their ice with your teeth gnaw them into a shape they find acceptable. Newfound happiness like sandpaper on our work’s edges but c'est la we. Someone hold this scene like a child for as long as it takes. Cry if you’re moved. It’s summer in south bend. I’ve declared this city’s queers untouchable.
4.
I’ve got a bag and in it All the noise you need 100 million instances of me saying the perfect thing In my head I’m charming And you’re in my apartment Not miffed by all the stains from spilling paint onto the carpet I hope you like this dress I hope it’s what you’re into I hope me coming here wasn’t way too much and far too soon I’ve got this stomach ache From thinking on my past mistakes From wriggling when you’re near like I am a fucking garter snake You’re French onion soup And I’m the perfect spoon To crack the layers hardened on by melted cheese buffoons I know that’s it’s futile And you’re with that guy But I’m pinning up this feeling like socks out on the line And it’s extra and The worst thing I could do But I am telling everyone that I think that I’m in love with you Would you like some flowers Can I lay them at your feet and can you give me back my breathing and can I take you out to eat? Can I take you out to eat
5.
I’m just a dream to you is that how I seem to you? Am I a fiending fool an academic overrule? You want to talk about the things that we might talk about You interrupt me if you see a sentence in my mouth I tried to like you but all I could do was love you You say you’re smarter well I think that you’re just trying harder You’re stuck behind yourself well I’m out in the open and if you think I’m joking I’m not when I say that we are hopeless

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demo of future ep

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released July 9, 2019

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Butch Barbie South Bend, Indiana

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