Yeah, yeah, everywhere is
something’s birthplace
if you cum
all over it all
proud like a dog
pissing with a bone
in its mouth.

You’re the dog,
the piss is cum,
and I’m the baby
and the bone.

There’s discharge in the water! There’s beer in the bread! There’s a seal
in the pond! There’s a strangler on the loose!

There’s a clam that keeps on squirting
in my face, reminding me to tell everyone I’m working on it.

Like, I’m all for free Narcan
but I hate a fucking junkie,
and I just have to be the hottest
girl at AA.

It’s stupid vile to watch
a man shrink into a nip
or become an obituary
on a strip club’s Instagram page.

But who am I
to judge? We all drink
from the same bubbler.
Salem’s water comes from Danvers Reservoir. Danvers Reservoir is Ipswich River, where my family rents canoes. But Danvers
drinks from Middleton Pond, and Rockport drinks from their very own quarry, where teenagers sun rot and get drunk. Someone
did an accidental dump of dead menhaden by the thousands. The fish marinated in manganese then washed up on Pickering
Wharf. Seagulls ate, fishermen got free bait, and kids said, “pee-yew!”

I guess the Naumkeag people died
so that Marky Mark could throw
rocks at black people and plug
his Catholic prayer app. I’ll confess that

when I’m called out for being crass,
I blame it on MA. I can’t help but laugh
when Intervention features Salem
or when some prick Jam Scams their mom.

I can say some slurs.
I can scream so loud.
I know junkies.
I’m retarded smart and so
all-around.

“Cummings Center” by Madison Murray, My Gaping Masshole (2025)