Poem: Cunt Hunt

Remember “Cunt Hunt”, he said.

And he said it like it was a kick-ass Beastie Boys song or a Tarantino flick, or some must-see TV show from back in the weekly episodic daze…

but I did remember it. Remembered it – sadly – so well.

We were having a party. Some guy’s birthday. And I’d made all these mixtapes of 80s bangers…

There was beer on the floor and heads…