i found the instrument but lost your song

the main difference

between us



The pits

I am lying with my pits upwards
I am drowning in this pit, downwards
I am so fine, lick that
I am so right, taste gravel
I am inside your prayers
I am sellotaped under your prayer mat
I am shedding lambswool clothing
I am (b)eating defenceless animals
I am mutually masturbating with shadows
I am making a list and checking it twice
I am hammering a nail in your round robin
I am lying in this pit, downwards
I am opening my pits, outwards


Fucking in the cold

So cold that fucking is the only option
Must find something to fuck
Must find something to put my dick in
It is so cold it feels like outdoors
If I were actually outdoors I wouldn't fuck anything
That's not ok
But I am indoors
Might bake something


Teens dig my thing

Every one of my attempts to engage you
turns into this jelly baby;
my diction shifts beside you.
Like a Wikipedia page that leads to nowhere.

One day, our ideas will fuck each other like we do:
without lube—
or with,
if they can find it in the dresser drawer.

Maggots clean and piercing
so not maggot-       like
It's hard to be yourself when you don't know who that is
if we ever get out of this death trap you must promise.

This is a thing that could never be a thing.
Like our thing, that was a thing then wasn't,
do you remember?
You said I smelled like applesauce and I said it's over.


Sharpie King Size Permanent Marker

Yellow photo from the '70s with

Rounded corners and naked

Kids — could be porn in the wrong hands


Incense shot glass

Snakes on a Motherfucking Plane mug

Waxy candles and I want

To punch you to death

With hugs



The PIFFLE Reading Sessions #10: Lannie Jennings's Two Clits

Candy corn scorn, ace
I've got your poem right here!
Pecker diddle,
addresses itself to my right nipple, goes:
I think you're really swell sweetheart, I've
got a bucket of buckets for
ya right here.
I'm so sorry, I pout pretty,
as the peeping curtain draws.


don't fuck me

you like me but this makes me unhappy
i am starving and i love it
sinuous bends get me going
i sin, you throw your own shit, shut up
shit out a limb and then shit out another
shit out a forest of limbs before you die
fill your bowels with me, who drinks
water instead of your piss and eats
a big ol' slice of shitty limb meat, dropped
from you when you gave up on
watching what an asshole, you suck

Fuck me

i adore you, you are unhappy about life
you are starved for love you lap
up, the sinuous bends command me
you sin, you throw a tantrum, you pity
fight and sin and sin and tear limb
from orchards who want to see the dead
empty their bowels at night, who drink
water to pretend it's piss who eat
the frothy carcass of eaves dropping on
a shoulder when you should've been
watching what an asshole, you suck


Dear Saint Peter

Take the girl, wrapped up and send her to church
To learn about ghosts and shit

Sleep for hours and my body aches
Green shit comes up out of my eye sockets as a cloud

Dear Saint Peter
"No shit, tell me something I didn't know"

When you open a curtain or open a door do you already know what will be behind the curtain or door?
Are you sure?

Thee saviour
Even you use a play on words, just to make a point

I read the Bible
And it's spooky








roofies for a dead corpse, bennies for a live one

you said something about me and i have a right to know what it was
not this, not now, look here
all i have to give are fragments
mostly disconnected, lest you take the bird's eye
my insecurities are hanging on the outside of me
like the intestines of a disemboweled corpse or a baby
whose cord's not yet been severed
continuing to suck the life
what are we for?
that squirmy worm, that ratzinger
swings onto the dance floor and promptly disappears
with good enough
hanging off his arm
i shimmy up to the one
who buys the most drinks
what care i if they're spiked?
that someone would go to so much trouble to catch me
is heartwarming
such a coup deserves a fuck


On my way to the shops

I puked
In a hole
I fell into
The hole

I was stuck
In the hole
All of the puke

I stared
At the puke
It caught fire

Now I am
And covered
In puke

My own puke


the roar of tomorrow

in the bathroom

taking a massive shit

i hear the yip and yell

of a distressed pooch

i finish and flush

only to find

the pup

on kitchen floor

bathing in

window sunshine

crying at

its own shadow

"silly little dog," i say

while smacking it on the nose

shut the fuck up already

you'll have something

to be terrified over

soon enough


The Lost World

I know something about Pterodactyls

The 'ptero' part means wing

The 'dactyl' part means finger


From now on, you shall be known as



a cock in hand is worth two in the bush (?)

and when the girls shake their feather dusters
it will all be for you
and their fathers they will cringe with moral superiority
and oh how the weak have flown
with babies
with incense
with bottles of jack
thirty-seven red reeds
dust and cobwebs on their weed cigarettes
with seventeen six-packs of beer ice cold
beer head bigger than Australasia
or Arkansas
or the jungle gym by the school
where he taught me that
breasts mean the world owes you
big time



i could start off slow
slap your deep inner thigh
until it blushes bright

take a leather strap
go at it hard
beat your crotch
until you weep

tie you up
and blow hot and paced
until you beg for me
to penetrate your flesh

but i think the best form
the most efficient
is to ignore you
let you walk around
wondering why
you've been


Slipknot by Slipknot

You are asleep
I love you

I will either

Use a surgical knife
Slice away your eyelids
Left and right
Shoot torch light at you

With indelible marker
Small smiley faces


little girl, let me have my way with your gentle soul

                          in my mouth
slow sucking
                          my way
to your

Last day

Dare me to drink this whiskey
Dare me to make a mess
Dare me to cause a scene
I am so tired
This is the end
Good luck with all the dwarfs
And that


Still Frontin' (rap)

Still frontin' y'all
Still frontin'

Still frontin' y'all
Still frontin'

Engine running, me sleeping in the backseat
Read that you sleep fast reading from a factsheet
About poems and feelings and women and shit
There's a hole in my chest with nothing left in it
Punch myself in the face till it don't look like a face
Lick a lightning bolt just to see how it tastes
Rub your eyes real hard till they bleed
Peel your toes and your head and everything between

Still frontin' y'all
Still frontin'