I'm the funny girl with your coat tails between her teeth 
I'm the neon clown with the 11 o clock appointment 
I'm the briefcase with the bottle of bourbon 
I'm the suit pants doing the twist 
I'm laughing louder than you 
In shoulder pads 
See the rise and fall of my line graph data 
See the sharp decline in your dick bulge 
When I spit my last quarter report findings 
Which read 
This just in 
Your mating rituals are tired 
And your cheap beer pitcher 
Is spilling on my boots, sir, 
Please, get your shit together, sir, 
In the honky tonk 
Throwing you back like 
Room temperature well whiskey 
Throwing you back against the wall 
With a firecracker grin 
In my don't fuck with me 
Oversized for comedy men's coat 
Linebacker shoulders 
Lunching on your locker room talk 
And spitting up the bile 
Lipstick smile 
Right into your pint glass 
Guzzle my fluids big boy 
And I'll tell you my best 
Knock knock joke 
While you choke on your inability 
To bed me 
And how it feels to be face to face 
With the beautiful maniac 
Funny girl 
That you'll never have 
Because it's just not working 
'Cause your shit just isn't working 
And you'll ask why it isn't working 
Why isn't it working?

Funny Girl

This is the summer we will all get scabies
Better than rabies 
Better than babies
The four of us 
This is the summer we will all get scabies
Blame it on sapphic love
Blame it on the one who doesn't shower
Blame it on the cat
Utility is written all over your face
I come here 
This is where I come
You look so serious when you talk about the rash
Like you do when you talk about the war 
And how everything is always different after a war
All the cunt hair was shaved in the massacre of our bodies
While we were ignorant we did not itch
Then google search this rash
These bumps
Suspicious lumps
No insurance
Home remedy
Sturdy
Built for this
Smile like a Swiss Army knife
To cut what burrows in the skin
The itch comes on stronger once you know you should be itchy 
Web md says scabies are a sexually transmitted disease 
And what's a girl to do ya know
I mean I got a body
And sometimes I rub it against other bodies
And sometimes all that rubbing can cause
Mites to burrow in your skin
I mean I got a body so it takes my body
And puts its babies in my body
And man I never asked for that ya know
I didn't consent
There are babies being born all the time did ya know
Some right now hatching under my skin
Some right this moment hatching under my skin
Eggs 
Eggs
Eggs 
Eggs
Flesh fresh eggs
Call your lover tell him clean the couch

Scabies: a love poem

m i c r o p o e t r y 
d i g i t i a l p o e m
m e d i a f r u i t
n o s t a l g i a i n m o t i o n
s t r a n g e l o o p s

mundane poetics

EMILY AYER / LIMB / TRACI LAVOIS THIEBAUD

Any Shitty Sedan

Written & Performed by Steven Thiebaud
Music by Anthony Barilla
Additional Vocals by Traci Lavois Thiebaud
Based on the Life and Times of Carl the Dog

Little Dog

she folds up into
the small moment you keep
close to your chest
the check on bag
the pop up tent
under arrest on a passenger plane
you grin from the pillow of your
houston, texas bed
dreaming in origami shadows
while she grows right out of her
tuesday mornings
and all the footholds are droning 
in the mountainside
and all the onions
wait bravely for the knife
in the dark room
she hoists herself into your left ear
using only her upper body
the shape of her curls
like a soundwave you perceive
without hearing
the kind that vibrates your mouth open
pink tongue helix
how her light is amber on the edges
like a vignette filter
on vintage flicker film