Saturday, November 12, 2016

Jessica Renting

Jessica love template breathing help digitally with
an app or an aptitude for breathing apart from digital
templates of living in Jessica's face and thoughts she's a
torn two space inhabiting slut renting too much for
too long

Tuesday, November 8, 2016

Leaving It Alone

What am I contributing to if at all if at vegetable all of my bush and bramble conversation
self if at all in my life and world if I can spill a thing to him or her his holy representative in
secrecy were to write my letters and pass them on even though my secrets were nothing less than
a description of the beaches near the borders of Michigan and the organ music of an old happy lesbian next to her hearth and in her old home that reminds me of a steamship god I love it....

I can't disturb this peace. I can't be myself on it, or to it. I have to be quiet and not rub off on it or I'm
sure to fuck it up.

God help us

2016

Take onto me a weight of soup and oatmeal like I'm responsible for feeding the mouths of cute
idiot children just because they're short haired boys who don't know what a cold-steel-gut feels like, the lucky little fuckers, but I'm tempted to kiss them all with an abusive sort of innocence-murdering-wisdom until they're just broken shoe-gazing parking meters and book-memorizing-automatons and do we even know what we need them for yet? Economists joke about it...

No one knows. Dead weight smokes newly legal pot and podcasts whatever sounds interesting.
It's an age of intoxicating marvel. Float on. Wonder about it. I have no idea where god went.
We killed it. Congrats.

Monday, November 7, 2016

Breathe Ativan

Congratulate her, she's a good dog with a silky coat and
good fur for a furniture sort of home sense comfort home
feeling home giving sort of warmth and love and safety and
grab rubbing you tightly until the panic overload and teeth
clenching is passed

Chubby Nothing

What with a wholly nothing gap in his every whole happening
chest of living moving flesh his being was wholly into
nothing noticeable but for a thudding sound which was an
evidence to a thick realness which was perhaps a sign of
objective maybeness but after a long night and morning of
thriller dreaming I'm bound to drink water and wonder if
anything is real at all

Saturday, September 24, 2016

Familiar Smell

Halting the ark, haunted ark fuck
ark full of animal guts and fur tingling
licking clean grooming sensibility clean
sheets and conscience until I'm a sober
patriarch of cats my vacuumed floors describe a
man whose life is under a paper and pencil sort of
lock and key with rational calm sensibility and
mathematical hand grasping exercises to develop the
fist strength to crush something which is perhaps or probably
time

Love is, what happens next?

Love is an unstoppable force and
we are immovable objects.
What happens next?

Saturday, September 3, 2016

Reckoning - Brock Turner

Tall talk over me aren't you a
big figure but let's settle now
that this is a game for big cocks
you little lamb baa you tender
meek little thing you who think
who would inherit what inherit
this?
The strong fuck everything in every
hole they plumb it good they fuck and fuck
and rub raw and chafe the depths of it until
her throat is cotton and the Kalahari and
the salt mine in my guilt night terror my
cockwielding worst dream my
won't go away leaked documents of
truth and that cake that chased
Hampton Pig groaning eat me eat me it'll
never leave you it'll scare the living
shit out of you it will eat
your guts and make you look at her
and

Friday, September 2, 2016

Holy Fuck Mountain

Holy fuck mountain
I've seen it
I've tasted the air that
rubbed it's shoulders and
tumbled down it's back,
there were so many cats at the
foot of holy fuck mountain, milling
about, looking for milk and biscuits,
or maybe a few mothers to nuzzle
into and lick them, they chirp like idiots,
they don't know anything, I'll build a fire
and wait and watch and roll a cigarette and
sing a song I taught myself from a book of
hymns about him and his holy fuck mountain
I'll build a church here some day maybe, there's
a stream nearby, cold water and fish and sometimes
a bear comes to take what he can catch to fill his belly
for so much sleeping and all the bear business on the
mountain that needs a full belly, it's a hell, being a bear
with an empty belly, no bear told me that, I've just watched,
and listened - holy fuck mountain talks if you're quiet and if you
listen just right and if you don't interrupt with any chewing or
hollering or any kind of plan making, it's not a dignified way to
treat your holy fuck mountain
it's important to love it
to love her
quietly

Sunday, August 28, 2016

Sore throat sore penny thoughts repeated
repeatedly until sore in your throwaway head
sore indirectly by way of grass and trees or the
lack thereof replaced with couch and liquid plastic
life of a mouth with a dick and a wallet
plant your hand on your heart and buy what
they tell you
trust everyone so trust no one
sore throat killing me
choking on airwaves

Sunday, April 10, 2016

Torch or Sleep

Torch illuminate to cave three days
companion night to days in drink in wine in sadness
so great and so cheap that your bed becomes a grave
place six feet deep and three pillows wide until
a mouth in the earth consumes you and
a worm tongue licks you and your
passion for science and women's
rights doesn't matter and only
sleeping more matters only
sleeping as much as possible matters
you sinking fuck you heavy weightless
sinking rock you
stone
you burying root you cloud you didn't write a letter or
touch your mother's skin goodbye you
took your pills and drank good wine and
caressed the neck of your guitar for a moment and laid down and
closed your eyes and looked at the ceiling and
big goodnight so I goodbye

Whose Flag Bleeds

Corrupt I hello inside hello try abruptly to swell with an
unsick pride yellow monologue coffee table
dye and in some chest swell vocal fry bleeding American book of
negro blue patriot blue industry blue patriot blue computer
false who in true zero zero one one oh to be
two to be one too amongst the many is
just another accomplishment of the
entitled which is no accomplishment then sick
sad
asshole dreaming patriot

Friday, March 25, 2016

If This Then I

Awake again!
To see to write to breathe exhale a big nasty puff of invisible unsee
blue less dense than water more dense than nothing about the
same density as soul but dumber breath
is and will always be
in out in out in out
giving me a tylenol giving me a chest ache like caving hunger from
stem to stern or my
third eye to my asshole
nothing is sacred
Awake again!
Drink deep to awake from a long sleepy dust sleep not
a word or peeping fuck from you as you and we
our hands on mouths and pull hair and dig into each
other and bite until our bleeding lips are flags for
the hate in love and love and love as old as dirt
dirt dirt dirt rose dirt rose tomato bean and
dirt and rabbit skin dirt bird bone dirt the collar around your
neck dirt the money in your pocket dirt the book you read in
dirt the love your church in dirt the promises you keep to
dirt the bitter sweet my dirt my loving faithful baby dirt
my honest loyal dirt who dirt when dirt the why the dirt

The passage of time is a pile of black earthy shit from which you
emerged unto which you will return the passage of time is
a sexy quiet song in the first and last bath you took and
dirt is the only covenant and the only evidence of Him
so lay down and breathe and be awake and just let Him happen to you.