Friday, September 30, 2011

I can hear my heart beat I can hear my heart beat I can hear my heart beat I can hear my heart beat I can hear my heart beat I can hear my heart beat I can hear my heart beat I can hear my heart beat I can hear my heart beat I can hear my heart beat I can hear my heart beat I can hear my heart beat I can hear my heart beat I can hear my heart beat I can hear my heart beat I can hear my heart beat I can hear my heart beat I can hear my heart beat I can hear my heart beat I can hear my heart beat I can hear my heart beat I can hear my heart beat I can hear my heart beat I can hear my heart beat I can hear my heart beat I can hear my heart beat I can hear my heart beat I can hear my heart beat I can hear my heart beat I can hear my heart beat I can hear my heart beat I can hear my heart beat I can hear my heart beat I can hear my heart beat I can hear my heart beat I can hear my heart beat I can hear my heart beat I can hear my heart beat I can hear my heart beat I can hear my heart beat 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I can hear my heart beat I can hear my heart beat I can hear my heart beat I can hear my heart beat I can hear my heart beat I can hear my heart beat I can hear my heart beat I can hear my heart beat I can hear my heart beat I can hear my heart beat I can hear my heart beat I can hear my heart beat I can hear my heart beat I can hear my heart beat I can hear my heart beat I can hear my heart beat I can hear my heart beat I can hear my heart beat I can hear my heart beat I can hear my heart beat I can hear my heart beat I can hear my heart beat I can hear my heart beat I can hear my heart beat I can hear my heart beat I can hear my heart beat I can hear my heart beat I can hear my heart beat I can hear my heart beat I can hear my heart beat I can hear my heart beat I can hear my heart beat I can hear my heart beat I can hear my heart beat I can hear my heart beat I can hear my heart beat I can hear my heart beat I can hear my heart beat I can hear my heart beat I can hear my heart beat 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Saturday, September 24, 2011

Leaf

Cosmic blaspheme
tarantula gargantuan
harangue lips and
scold busy finger tips
corrupt art
vilify the virgin
dance religion
hang the pope
riches bowel
poor radiant teeth
honestly clean
honestly virtuous
tenth
thirteenth
pegasus whisper
tender pre-teen fondle
exploration slut who
doesn't know better
bathe in tongue
embrace confusion
abstract the abstraction
dialogue with mutterers
council with canines man's
best friend
taking advice from a hungry
mouth a wagging tale and
restless legs a 15,000 year
old wolf who is an avatar
for instinct
a memory capsule
moon's distance lover
who mothered the
world before birthing
a thirsty litter
milk
honey
bread
fire and fashion and
steadfast love and
origami truth whose
folds are lost the
yellow paper catches in
oiled baseball glove
embrace like
mom and
mother or
mommy who
spit me from the mouth bellow
who knows the nest is nothing
but a test for life and gravity and
the lemming gene the will to live the
migraine of being the
concreteness of the reality of
the undeniability of
living and
dying of the
irrefutability of
suffering at the
strange hand of
being the arbitrary hand of
THIS is me and not this or
that

So who accepts blowing around in the wind who
surrenders to being a pawn

Saturday, September 17, 2011

Finally

London fog or fig leaf shroud Adam
Eve even
naked ape sensitive "human" who
grew smart weak willing willful
weary of the arbitrary or perhaps
just stumbled on snake
Is that why I am pathetic today?
Predestiny?
I long again for West 71st street
and New Amsterdam
A cold room and a radiator hissing
like you choking it
woke me I
panicked

I loved you then,
it became
sealed

Love To Hate Me

Dim the lights,
set your lips on fire

Friday, September 16, 2011

Sex Addiction

It was callous it was
careless it was
carving caricatures of
Christ into cave walls and
crystal balls it was
canine cravings for
killfuck killing it
was quantified love un
willing it
came it comes in spurts it
was quarried heart or
excavated soul it came it
quivered and so it comes
in shudders that deliver
nothing but
empty stomach
empty empty
stomach be
cause I
didn't
love her.

After So Many Things

Finished breakfasts and
used condoms and
read books and
chewed bones and
worn shoes and
weathered hands and
so many lies and
lived-in homes and
old Texas and
tired horses and
parched throats and
rusty hinges
lies lies lies and
arthritic dog and
dusty bible and
cold soup and
dried up creek

What am I
to seek?

Her

Harlequin hungover hard-on heavenly
high harassing Harriet's hymen heat
heat heat horrifically her heart heaved
having had him howling hell haunting hurting
henceforth hating hard hard hard-on and
forever [t]hereafter.

Monday, September 12, 2011

Things

A man with a beautiful face a woman with a beautiful lung a boy with a beautiful blue toy a girl with a beautiful baby a day with laughter a sky with wishes a stone with secrets a key with cupid a dancer with wings a horse with milk eyes a snake with a promise an ocean with a song a night with a murder a dead man dreaming with a grin a bottle full of space a tooth with eyes a mouth with anger a tongue with justice a home without a map a needle a tree a gift an angel a silver hair a stool or a prism with living emanations or the dead constellations of synapse sex that fled hurtling outward at the speed of living or a book or a bean or a beetle green or a bitch with a litter wanting milk so a saucer does because the tits didn't exist a shelf and dust a ball of cotton soaked in us a candied flower to a lover and a letter to a mother a kiss a dying breath a fuck another kiss a breathing death an unbreathing life after a stomach a hole a cancer a bowl a butter knife and a scalpel buttered bread and a chapel and a priest who prays for endless nights and ending days a cog a second hand a little dust mote and a sand coloured stain on darker skin that promises that once I was lighter but truth happened who calls it Sun a burn a hovering bruise and smothering for days who choose
a stick a knight a cup a holy ghost a sight a sore these eyes a bone who lies an inkwell sly and televised a carpenter ant a glass tattoo a virus an apple a tantalizing breast a seductive arching back a pound of flesh a price a pension earning as an old man aged before us who loved nothing but a quick dog a lazy finger a queen a crow a shred of proof

Saturday, September 10, 2011

All Day In Bed

If me loving you doesn't make you
love me back, seeing how much I
love you will only make me
repulsive to you.

Saturday, September 3, 2011

September 3rd, 2011, 6:13 am

I think,
there's something undeniably honest
about someone going insane.
As if there is nothing else as honest.
No one else as honest.

If this were truly the last thing I
ever wrote,

It would be my
most satisfying

We Killed

Whose prophet told him to bet on
chance not odds because
she's a better lover she tells more
truths whose mother always kept
milk on the table kept bread in the
oven kept a full cup for Christ who
never came without gifts who kept the
door unlocked for any ghost who
came who
loved a prayer and a song who
loved verses from the book of
Anger or Hate who
lip read the rapture and day dreamed the
meat whose

Slaughter was in reverence to
excellence and baptism and
honesty and virginity and truth
or half truth or shades of fractions of
truth or maybe opinions even but certainly
not lies whose slaughter was in honor of
Bill and Joan and Patrick or
Anthony whose whale never swallowed
Jonah whose bush never burned whose
lips never peeled from sunburn cruelty whose
tied shoelaces never tripped him whose
skinned knees were then a lie whose
guilt trip was false whose
sex addiction was his own weakness whose
liquor flowed by his own hand whose
tears were only sweat whose
volume upon volume of Conan Doyle were
only testaments to his boyhood innocence and
I wish truly I do that
we could I could rescue him from the
inkwell of his own insane downspiral but
the internet and the Heidelberg press
cahooted to kill something beautiful and
since then there's been nothing trustworthy
about us.

Because we killed the last beautiful person.

Making Good On A Promise

Something beautiful.

Friday, September 2, 2011

What We Become

Who killed jesus when they voted for a
baby who looked like a promise but was
just a black fuck, a vague hole or a
gravity well that pulled like a hooker, who

Hasn't eaten since the internet who
loves only orgasm who
tastes the most electronic blood who
laughs one zero one who
would frag you lol who
would spit in your yearbook unsigned and
photograph the place where your locker was who
will never remember forgetting who
is plugged in who
is out there in the
cosmos of pornography and attention deficit who
is scared as hell when the power's out whose
skin is a pale blue who
sits in wife beater and
white underwear because he is a
god who
chats angels and
searches the answers

Kill me
any
time
now

Wonder What The Fuck

Pulse dialtone love means
never being alone and
carry guns or carry sticks
or carry condoms for
weeping dicks or carry ash
for cloudy sky or carry heavy
burdens I will carry on and
carry forth I'll carry fourth
the major fifth I'll
carry fists I'll carry eyes I'll
carry water in my lies I'll

Fuck the dog metaphorically I
burned the house down in
my sleep
I

I'm jagging with existence and
pranking truth I'm playing games
with you and you and
two versions of my
self there's
the I I see as I and the
me I wish to be or be or
be better than so

Barf the universe barf the key
eject simple fucking honesty a
clear picture or a proof of
something
meaning
anything
so that I don't have to feel that
I'm wasting the preciousness of
moments I could have been sleeping
eternally

please
God don't let me fool myself
[again]

I just ask for constance in my heart or
fingers, certainty
that what is beautiful today will be
beautiful tomorrow and
in two years and
in two generations when
my children's children set eyes upon
my barfing work and wonder what
the fuck