A BONER FOR JASON VOORHEES

Always waiting for your hockey grin/ the pierce of your sea-weeded harpoon/ an axe in my forehead, perhaps/ I wouldn’t mind the burn of your rope around my neck/or the force of you slamming me against a tree-mid-sleeping-bag/ the crunch of my bones against its trunk./ In fact I’m hoping for it Jason, come catch me, finally, stalk me with your Hodder gait/ your ghostfacesuicidekilla pimp walk./ Every day is Friday the 13th/ catch me catch me catch me/ be a good boy, shove a knife through my tits/ knitting needles through the ears/ machete my gut/ you half-drowned deformed little fuck.