Poem: “Last Will and Testament”

To Roberto, I leave three rusted kettles.
To Dirk, a map to find Zuzu’s petals.
To Father Browne of ChicagoTown,
I leave the remorse from my nervous breakdown.
To Sniveling Lisa, my poultry obsession.
To Big Billy Bounce, my latent aggression.
To [REDACTED], I leave my guidebook for lying,
To Theresa, the skin of my penis, for frying.
To Skippy, I leave the state of Illinois.
To Freida, my ghost, to torment and annoy.
To Dipshit, I leave two-thirds of my bladder.
(The remaining third is to be fed to an adder.)
To Lolo, I leave a need for my sperm.
To Gibson, two segments and a half of a worm.
To Horace, I leave the worst part of my colon.
(The best part is liable to be suckled or stolen.)
To Fuckface, I leave the questions that haunt me.
To Wynona, the voices at night that taunt me.
To Wigglie, I leave two cows and a duck.
To Trish, a refusal to her offer to fuck.
To Hodgkins, I leave non-Hodgkin’s lymphoma.
To Dudley, a bottle of pig shit aroma.
To HubCab, I leave the last smile on my face.
To Fat Mama Mary, I leave nothing but space.
To Sandra Rourke from New York, New York,
I leave a knife and a gift from the Stork.
To everyone else, I leave nothing but spite.
That’s it, that’s all.

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