| we is white boy pole juice |
languid moon
in a blood sausage moment
eat my void
please |
I may be drunk but what of it
I would sleep but there is no one to lick in bed
so I will go out & see my
frantic delirious friends
why not |
shadow picture through skin
elaborate gown
gorgeous |
as with all these enormous storms
we cry less after worship |
the power of him
crushes me beneath
his delicate meaty tongue
and how |
beauty
incubating after stillness
no diamond spray symphony
none |
lie near the road
moaning about life and
love’s thousand pink chains
as sweet as a summer peach |
|
never place milk and rust together |
finger me chocolate apparatus |
he lives by death rock
and within a
sad & rosey scream |
mother who let the ugly puppy in
the waxy blue woman in the car |
bare feet aching
hair like raw music
her luscious language like black sweat
flooding away their dream men
she has essential needs |
a chant a day
smooths over and stops
most knife urges swimmingly
but you are not up for it
lazy & weak yet shadowy & mad |
|
she always was a fast fiddler |
club play
cool stare
rip her easy red petal
whisper, heave,
think |
from under fluff he can take head
from the hot sordid girl
blowing like fall mist
shaking then showing a light lather
run when they say go |
repulsive tiny leg boil |
