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.

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.

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

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

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

homesick

you hug
you lightly paw
an elbow or a knee
people squeeze hands
and firmly shake
once or twice, they advise
lean into each other
another's skin
boys place palms
on the smalls of girls' backs
no one stops
or draws back
or cringes
imperceptibly
human contact
human contact!
their bodies flow
i never noticed that
until

if only tonight we could sleep

for jereme

the sheets, little white cotton mounds and S shapes by your knees
turning to face the camera
perspiring skin sticks to a strand of black hair
lit dark, just enough to see
are you alone or we together?
that's directly correlated to what happens next in this scene
eventual sleep or shivering heave
oh, but don't feel too special, secret watchman
it's just your company that keeps
monsters safely under the bed

i will bake brownies to lessen your discontent every time we're together

let's start a new thing
a house and a baby
tell your brother to visit
maybe some of your friends too?

my leg is tired
my leg is old

if i stretch out then bend
to huddle close
we can pretend
we're jellyfish
fleshy and wet
contracting and releasing to move

start something with me
i'm excited to feel you near
my lip is swollen
from the ant bite
your word is wounds
from a pen knife

The reddish fox is an inscrutable bird

the urge to shame is deep
cartoon foxes mewl
licking bright red tongues
over the scroll bars
of your website

Deserving of an orgasm, in the night she wandered

(As rejected by L⁴ for being too 'vaginy' and 'grody' - yesss!)

1
this thing it's so big
it tears my orgasm from me
like half-hanging-off teeth
with a satisfied dull pop

2
pushing your tampon too far in is worrisome sometimes
but leaving it too far out sometimes chafes
like where the ice skating rink was in winter
a chick that holds it for you like a hose while you spray

3
a light sprinkling of milk chocolate syrup
mars your snowy torso
insensitive jerks intone proclamations
of you needing to get laid

4
sadly peering into your openings
the puss and play congeal
when do you think we might be friends?
when i'm a balloon animal with a twisted bulb for a nose?

Happiness is a worn vein

hey guess what?
i don't want to be happy
if happy means
you don't blow up
or say fuck
a few too many times
you get a little
and there you stop
content with your
BANALITIES
i don't want to be happy
if it means things
and more things
and a pretty little girlfriend
who makes you dinner
and rarely sucks your cock
let me a die a death
well-deserved
because i'm not happy
with bullshit

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

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

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'

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

Swear to god

Hey but look oh my god, she said
I'm hetero as fuck
Poor boys prancing
Big dicks waggling at me
I promise, she said
Come here baby girl
I'm not going to eat you

sometimes I read out loud

you're all people
you're all problems
people problems
I never said
the eagle flew at dawn
I never said
the sky at black was night
you never listen
you never listen

Vaginal workout

Flex those lips.
Zoom in the hole to show,
the depth and variety,
of which she's capable.

No sharp nails or spiked heels.
Only pure;
inflamed;
raw;
cunt.

Suck in those cheeks.
Protect the face and
snicker.
[But quietly;

for no one gladly suffers,
a hard,
moody bitch.]

Joe Dolce Sings Slayer's Greatest Hits

Probably she takes her rings all off when she washes her dark face
Several volunteers say they saw her by the chocolate swooning
And of the man reporters continue to report his misdemeanours angrily
Probably he waited for the courgette pelting before sneaking out the window
In the meanwhile she mistakes a kind word for unlimited warranty
Last sighted crouching awkwardly in that angled space beneath the stairs
Several churchgoers offered to give her head on their way back from Sunday service
After some negotiation it's for the best that she agreed

I'm going on a road trip

Alone, so what?
I got camping gear,
trusty sat nav
(British male),
also maps,
cute wellies,
43 bottles of
spiked vitamin water,
lube.
Nature awaits at
my secret destination.
I got sights to see.
But first—
I'm going to go
take a piss behind
a bush nowhere
near the woods
at the back
of your house.