Did you Amber Heard your bed again?
Did you Amber Heard your bed again?
I heard the woman yell to her child upstairs.
She didn’t like to swear.
The kid was balling.
I couldn’t tell if it was from being in trouble
or because he had to be Amber Heard.
Into the bathroom!, I heard her demand.
In that angry mother voice
that could be used as paint stripper
in a pinch.
Clunking pipes in the wall.
That sudden rush from a running shower.
If she starts stripping the bed,
I’m out of here, I thought.
The kid already had a father off somewhere.
Probably passing bad cheques and kidney stones
with equal vigour.
The beer was warm as piss.
What the hell was it with this place
and bodily fluids?
I decided right there, that I must have
been a stunt man in a past life.
The kitchen table sitting there in front of me.
Like a line of 27 burning cars waiting
for me to try jump over them.
Horror Sleaze Trash 