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Jan. 31st, 2004 05:29 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
logovo1Donas
Riot at Winchell's
by Bruce Jackson
I want his doughnut. He was eating that fucking donut the first time he kicked my ass. He's gonna be eating that doughnut again. I want his doughnut. I used to walk by wanting that doughnut. I used to walk by wanting a taste. Now I'm gonna have a taste. I want his doughnut. I want what makes him stay here. I want his jellies. I want his glazed. I want his chocolate caked, and anything, anything that makes him stay. I want his doughnut. I know there's gonna be trouble. I know there's gonna be a fight. I may put fresh bakery items at risk when I get my ask kicked this time, but I want his doughnut. I see his gun. There are little white frosting prints on the trigger. I see his badge. There's a drop of custard staining the metal. I see blue. I see black. I see white. They're a striking contrast to the pink box full of fantasies he's been teasing me with. I want his doughnut. He's waiting for me, powdered sugar stains on his lips and fingertips, my flesh, my bloodstains at the ends of his billy club. I'm gonna get my ass kicked again, but I want his doughnut, and he won't give it to me.
Riot at Winchell's
by Bruce Jackson
I want his doughnut. He was eating that fucking donut the first time he kicked my ass. He's gonna be eating that doughnut again. I want his doughnut. I used to walk by wanting that doughnut. I used to walk by wanting a taste. Now I'm gonna have a taste. I want his doughnut. I want what makes him stay here. I want his jellies. I want his glazed. I want his chocolate caked, and anything, anything that makes him stay. I want his doughnut. I know there's gonna be trouble. I know there's gonna be a fight. I may put fresh bakery items at risk when I get my ask kicked this time, but I want his doughnut. I see his gun. There are little white frosting prints on the trigger. I see his badge. There's a drop of custard staining the metal. I see blue. I see black. I see white. They're a striking contrast to the pink box full of fantasies he's been teasing me with. I want his doughnut. He's waiting for me, powdered sugar stains on his lips and fingertips, my flesh, my bloodstains at the ends of his billy club. I'm gonna get my ass kicked again, but I want his doughnut, and he won't give it to me.