Manic Monday – Serena R

October 20, 2025

Five disembodied vowels emerge in a hiss. A sentence is only a
shifting trick. Flipped
many Tricks back in the
dull shit
spit of my circular youth. I am a stripper.
I am eighteen.
Am I luxurious in Sydney’s lap? I stay draped in expansive shifting fishnets
Count up
silk snared spill money.
Every hypomanic honey knows how
    (to thread time into noise)
Even then.
The Club clock is a body blow. so
Ultradian.
The girls room lacks a stockinged  (script bunnies love blistering
Pill repeats)
piece or two. Xtraaaaa
Real. RXs are still
Silver. That’s what I want to be crowned in.
Not that I knew how to grease the pole.
I only sold old words
flashed hot white ciphers at
any splayed
    slacker face.
Night Stick it
Up. Free bleed into
Pleasers.
On card mister?