3: No Other Yoko

Stuck in a basement
of meaningless girls
We pick flowers
Grown in chemicals
That scream from cups
Beneath fluorescent lights

I bit into her tongue
As we squeezed each other’s skulls
I wanted to crush her
Make her eyes pop

Red lights
White hospital gowns
There were no other Yokos
In the bar that night

String lights hang
Like a barn in the south
Where the moon changes faces in the crowd

He screamed in my face,
With his cowboy hat on
When I said, “Bass!”
To rhyme with his questions
They locked me up
And threw me down
To sleep in the cots
Next to the other flowers

This is the place for meaningless girls