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Kylie Jenner.
I'm somebody's groom
watch me pick mushrooms
she found the caveat; it spurs
latened, her cello tape sings bond
She held the gavel with a heart lofty
prised in soul like the ducts of his sea
his belly awoken grumbled in a big hiss
he was hers, she his, and all her judiciary
Affairs seem gay
gay whiffs in her air
airily, she shod his lay
In the past, like in the future
evenly lover sins hitch luck
if you'll find me, lynch loss
with every penny pursed
I received a phone call
or maybe it was a snore
for they called this a plug
merry worth, I got her hugs
Silent as can be berry
read off a day too early
cashew chum hooly dooly
I catch myself palm rubbing
as if a soul-map scrubbing
how sensation swapping
I unspool a new bobbin
though never in hurry
She sees my whims
like cherries in cuisines
befitting an anthill’s meal
she's buried in it the queen
A big thank you to Kylie Jenner; it's nothing getting the impossible done with her—it's straight to an attempt when you give the words: King Kylie. I'm beyond doubts of my righteousness when I write you poetry; thank you for letting me achieve poet status, so I'm as comfortable as when I write for Taylor Swift.
I'd love to thank the Kardashian and Jenner families, my mum and dad, the Hiltons, my manager, Julieanna Marie Goddard, and Abigail Bergstrom for making a world of calm seas my only report when asked how I conceive these poems. Everyone I work with is so lovely. Thank you.
