fUCK yOU

AND FUCK YOUR WEEKEND
AND FUCK YOUR SHIT MAG
AND FUCK YOUR FUCK
YOU FUCK YOU FUCKING
FUCKING GROUPIE WHORE
FUCKING WRITERS
LIKE THEY'RE SPECIAL
FUCK
FUCK YOUUUUUUUUU

You Really Should Put On A Sweater

I will pretend that the sun came out and
that when we fuck I think of only you

You will pretend that my vagina is still tight and
that when I eat food it never comes out of my anus

We will continue fooling ourselves
in this façade of our existence
where you change the tires
after I break them
while saying so very much
to anybody
but you

It has me without care

For the facts are obscene
Apparently he is a real poet
Even doesn't have a blog
Doesn't even have to shower
To think up with the word
That means dubious
But like
Not dubious

only the passing crows noticed i felt empty like a scarecrow that day that existed within your smile

i told you
you are the ice cube
within the coffee cup
suffocating in the steaming black liquid

the coffee is strife
a metaphor for life
on this planet

you giggled
rolled your eyes the way you do
and sipped the cooled coffee

a vice
i
introduced to
you

i was wrong

the coffee is not strife
but my negativity
& apathy
towards living

the ice cube
your heart
& love
for a man
for me

another vice
i introduced
to you

dude said vis-à-vis yo oh my god

five buttoned buttons and an unzipped fly
and a boy across the aisle you thought was makin' eyes
eyes wide, fakin' rhymes
when you should be sleepin'
poor man's doseone
behind my face is
creepin'

mother's mother

I ate breakfast at a bar next to a Buddhist temple on the day my grandmother died

She was in a wheelchair most of her life because of polio

She was a genius and not in the way people throw that word around on IMs

She was a genius

I barely knew her

But toward the end if her life she comforted me after my mother threatened to kill me

As she was dying she comforted me
She comforted me
As
She
Was dying

Because she was stronger than me even when she was crippled a second time by cancer

She was steel
She was cold
She was a reed standing against the gale force
She had to be
She never wanted us to feel sorry for her and it was
kindly cruel to every child's
scraped knee and
every tear for something
not so important

This morning I responded to an email from my mother for the first time in two years

I don't plan on corresponding with her again but

She said my grandmother was never her mother and I understand what she means

What she's feeling now is what I will feel when she dies and
it is to be so


~O~

you are a luscious fern and i am the lonesome desert

you are a luscious fern
living in the jungle

no matter how much you desire
to plant your roots in me

i am only desert sand

stay in the soil little fern

all i bring is the unforgiving sun

And the donkey returns to the thing for which I have no name

rubbing my vagina carelessly
while outside
cardboard boxes crumple

lazy leg hangs over
the side of a warm matted chair

a fat accordion worm
stretches to lick my toe and misses
'fucking swear ass cunt'
she hisses

I continue flicking mild

Tanka written upon being informed by my mother that I apparently come from a family of writers, and so that explains everything

My little nephew
Has had a poem published
I'm delighted and
As his proud uncle, I hope
He survives his next birthday

Danger Mouse

In a Devil’s Town
we had the longest summer
with word games and
the heaviest belts
around our necks

I cried when you left
to play with fire

Clash songs

In the din of Middle Earth,
bits of flying things
accompany
your shopworn skin
into my mouth
I taste you with my tongue
savoring

I knew you would be so sweaty
sweet

If my desire were tangible
you would kill yourself
before its wake
terrified

If the phone doesn’t keep ringing
you can never learn all the words to my songs

When you are ready
to wrestle again
you know where to reach me

A study in seizures

When you've lost your voice
You smell no reason
Beat your hollow chest
Until the froth splurges
Up your clammy neck
And out onto wood surfaces

Faculty: going

When you've lost your eyes
You still touch yourself
Beat your flaccid member
Until the froth splurges
Up your grimy veins
And out onto wasteful night

Faculty: going

When you've lost your ears
You still sense presence
Beat your throbbing head
Until the blood congeals
Up into your soiled pores
And you forget how to breathe

Faculty: gone