When Pigeons Cry


When Pigeons Cry

for Prince pt 2


What is underwear, anyway?

just another layer separating

my dick from the rest of the world


most days that can probably be

a good thing

but on some days it can be

a pain in the ass


while watching Purple Rain last night

I caught myself thinking

I want to do that

damn it, where must m-eye guitar B?

I want to do something that will make sense

out of all this sheet music

I want to write a song

that makes Apollonia cry


I want to find a nice girl

in a corset who’ll kiss me on the side of the face

when I’m being ridiculous


and stay up all night with me watching Netflix

with our pants off

(in this post Prince death world:

bubble baths = pants on

Netflix = pants not-on all night)


I want to find

a pair of pants that you only have to

wash once


I want to find a nice girl

who appreciates Rolling Stones pinball machines and

who won’t fuck Morris Day


which reminds me


Hey internet,

Back the fuck off!


if you’re gonna start slut shaming

Taylor Swift again

Yr gonna have to go through me


who cares if she’s had a half-ton of boyfriends

she’s just trying to figure things out

there are so many more important issues to worry about

in the great big sucked off world out there


there are worse things either happening

or waiting to happen

when the lights go on and off


I mean,


at least she’s not fucking Morris Day


(bring it back to the Taurus)


at least she’s not fucking Morris Day


unless she is fucking Morris Day, in which case

it’s all horrible

like misplacing your bubble proof pants

when you’ve been invited to take a sexy song bath


or the lousy state of politics

vs. sleeping alone vs. Activia and the mass production

of yogurt that’s designed to make you shit yourself

into a Jamie Lee Curtis sized waistline vs.


the unpronounceable symbol

of Prince still being



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