So we only get
so much life, at that
Whenever we sit back
try to calculate how much
we've got left, those are moments
better spent
toasting people gone,
times past, who helped make
our lives
something worth
a laugh
but aren't they all random?
Saturday, August 10, 2024
true account
Thursday, August 08, 2024
joined course
except every step not knowing why
until every look between us met
every reason we knew, which
we can't forget
We've had every chance in the book
plus one.
The next chance we get, let's
not call it done.
Each breath and each step
you have been always true
and our guesses lay bets
we've staked all the way
through
Wednesday, August 07, 2024
lit from without
It isn't as if the world's
so dark, if sometimes
the light gives us nothing
to see. It's shot through
with shades and hues
and sparks. It stays
lit from without.
You're not with me,
but my eyes keep seeing
your style and form
so compatible with
what's kept us high
and grounded us far
under distant stars.
Every sun comes up
and around, showing
why more than where
and how more than when
but there's been no question
of who, my friend. We cannot
pretend we have not found
this: this world's lit
from without
by everything missed
in enduring wish.
match and mix
and you'll be match, I'll
be caught since you're
the catch. Let time
sweep us up in space.
I'll be yours
we'll find
our place.
Even if now seems
so far. Even if
so many are
directionless,
without ways through.
You'll be my way,
seafoam spray
and sunrise
dew
Tuesday, August 06, 2024
much left
There isn't much left, except what
we could be
to each other in spite
of what you've meant to me
(too much: I know) minus everything
done: too bad, for sure
let's show. All for one, cards
on table and no bets laid.
Maybe
our best chance
has been left unplayed,
flying much too
free
beyond one's control
What's beyond one's control
takes a system from each
with bottoms and tops
pivoting like a beast, but
we're already there!
We've got systems galore
to choose
from
which is
which? Well, pick
and run
more
passable
I subjectify you
with objective mind
violating taboos
that are none too kind
since it's none of our business
what each feels like, except
where we're given
to touch
so right
Monday, August 05, 2024
punchline less
A musical spar
or prong or flange
walked into a bar, and
there it stands.
The bartender, grim
at accustomed post
keeps screwing in
light bulbs
without count,
pouring nameless
drinks in proper
amounts, and
nodding her head
in absent mind,
while the musical
spar beats
drunken
time
proposing toast
after toast after
toast
mark time
and laughter like bells
spinning out in the void
not a thing to sell
I used to build bridges
by frequency
Now wavelength is how
you are kept in me
You still ripple in waves
breaking out to far shores
from everything you
that I can't help adore
but I understand, too
about growing apart
it means no way to say
you still stick like a dart
and you still spread roots
in my heart of hearts.
You're still putting up
shoots in fits and starts
every time the sun shines
I'm still feeling you bud
Even now cast between us:
such thick, rich mud
So I love when it rains
because of how you look, wet
I still stake all our pains
It's for joys
I bet
omg political
You and I
so political
oh my god
but I love how
I reach like a lightning rod
up invisibly far
to call down your bolt
you have smitten me, babe
burnt well beyond hope
not far
I poured myself over
a high, still cliff
and rebounded back
through my eyes, ears
skin
standing anchored so high
as protected as wind
I called to you then
and there was no sin.
You called to me back
but you were the sea:
a blackness of blue
with ten million stars
broken sunlight at noon
as I stood, redwood shade
deep in dust from the paths
that I trod not far
Sunday, August 04, 2024
Friday, August 02, 2024
the visitors
We've only been visitors
in our own lives.
Unable to know any
one we can't trust.
Unable to unsee betrayals
of ours: extending that
lesson as far as we must
Each other's a mother
who cannot contrive,
a father who cannot
conceive of our bond.
A sibling who can't
be a keeper combined.
We've always been children
of somebody's, once.
Been fighting to grow up
in each gaze we meet.
It's why we can't know,
grow,
trust,
love
or complete
Too busy with
business of rank,
sort
compete
keep the blood poured
fight flight to home
heart is just a drug pusher
marrow pumps in core of bone
freezing, boiling, hazing red
vision clouds or crystal clicks
target signs land everywhere
what heart wants is where
heart sticks
keep the blood poured
keep the blood poured
peered hit plowed gored
keep the blood poured
get it in must let it out
sweat, tears, pores, palms, planted soles
fluids in and fluids gone
got to mix it up one whole
got to mix it up with two
territories, properties
so much me that I need you
so much us that we can't be
keep the blood poured
keep the blood poured
red, green, flash, bore
keep the blood poured
hanging on by tooth and nail
wanting things done just some way
fixed by generation's fail
how to bring a life like this
innocent so many ways
into trials, hips and fists
lips bare teeth in green eyed gaze
what can keep us breathing yet
keep our limbs moving around
purposeful as purpose gets
meaningful as meaning found
in the blood, such need and want
like, love, trust and consequence
game theories prey, peck and hunt
blood for oil, sport, defense
keep the blood poured
keep the blood poured
white, black, red, sore
keep the blood poured
keep the blood poured
Tuesday, July 30, 2024
Let's Get You Naked
We are alive, a little
Still got a lifeline left
Who do you wanna be now?
I just wanna be myself
Who do you wanna be with?
I just want to be with you
But we got something between us
I got an idea, a suggestion if you will
Let's get you...naked
We'll see what we'll see, we'll do what we do
Let's get you...naked
And I hope you don't mind if I join you?
I've known you forever and ever
I know you like I know my own hand
But I'd like to know you better
And then better and better again
'Cause we got some room to wiggle
The time has finally come, to come clean
'Cause we've been lying a little
Let's expose the truth if you know!
What I mean
Let's get you...naked
We'll see what we'll see, we'll do what we do
Let's get you...naked
And I hope you don't mind if I join you?
Let's get you...naked
Sounds like a plan to me
Let's get you...naked
And I'll even go first if you want me
Still got a lifeline left
Just wanna be myself
Who do you want to be with?
I just want to be with you
Sometimes a few missing pieces
Completes the completeness
I want nothing between us, two
Let's get you...
...naked.
Let's get you...
...naked.
Sounds like a plan to me!
Let's get you...naked,
and I'll even go first
if you want me
Monday, July 29, 2024
catlike pounce
I catlike pounce on what you give
it's only cause
we've got to live
I doglike big beg eyes explain
and rationalize
in big dog words
why I am
sometimes
such
a pain
woof woof
my eyes
say
bark whine sane
finding need's purposes
It's not about need it's
Want. Want is about
Lack.
We lack purpose or
Function. Another
One or some
Thing could
provide
what's wanted
so much we felt
need
Saturday, July 27, 2024
"Saskia (Out There)"
You get a little bit out of hand
(sometimes)
But you're the one who reels me back in
(and I'm fine)
And even picturing when you cry
(so sad)
It makes me want to just hit some guy
I'm that mad, and sometimes
I feel I'm in too deeply
I tell myself I'm not but I don't believe me
Saskia!
You're the only one out there, baby
Saskia!
Don't you think you should come in maybe, hey?
Come in! I love seeing
You shine. You make me think in
Clichés. With your hand…
in mine
And there's a whole world of difference,
between we.
But it don't make any difference
Not to me
That's not to say it's not meaning full
enough
It's just it's not any obstacle
Not to us, and when I
Picture my world without you
There's nothing in the frame, not of any value
Saskia!
You're the only one out there, baby
Saskia!
Don't you think you could come in, maybe?
Saskia!
Who could ever think evil of you?
Saskia!
The sun's breaking through all the clouds above you
Hey
I love how you measure
Your strength
Not by force of
Your shove
But by choice of
restraint
You get a little bit out of hand
(it's true)
But you're the one who pulls me back in,
to you and sometimes
I get a little bit broken up
And you're left sweeping my pieces up
And if I
just want to protect you too fiercely
It's only 'cause I love you so completely
Saskia!
You're the only one out there baby
Saskia!
Don't you think you should come in, maybe?
Saskia!
You are the only light I can see
Saskia!
Don't you go disappearing on me
indulgences
I want the future and
the past we want, but
I cannot have either
with you now. It works
for now because I think
You don't indulge me
one bit. We drink
and breathe the light
where we each are
now without
a fight.
Friday, July 26, 2024
"So, Saskia"
SHE:
Well, you ask who's this lass
with the ear-splitting laugh
and a mouth like a sailor's behind?
Who comes off so professional,
first rate first class
in manner, appearance and mind?
With a certain how do you say je ne sais quoi
in French or Italian or Dutch?
Whose words and whose ways never fail to translate
Well, how can you ask who?
Is it not obvious?
How could I be any more Saskia?
I ask a-ya?
It's im-poss-kia!
How could I be any more Saskia?
It's pre-posterah -
'cause I'm Saskia!
Any social milieu
I'll come waltzing right through
my onlookers can't fail to gush
If I slip, I will fall
with impeccable poise
and rise all the more glamorous
Well my friends know me well
and they'll all tell you so
and plenty of stories besides
But why take second-hand
when first-hand's walking by
What more could you question?
Do you doubt your eyes?
ALL TOGETHER:
How could she be any more Saskia?
We ask a ya? It's im-poss-kia!
How could she be any more Saskia?
It's pre-posterah!
She's so Saskia!
SHE:
How could I be any more Saskia?
I ask a-ya?
It's im-poss-kia!
How could I be any more Saskia?
It's pre-posterah
I'm so Saskia
It's a science and art
to come off so 'just so'
It's a calling and hobby of mine
So if I'm a bit late
No point checking your watch
I'll be there!...
(ALL: She'll be there!)
...on Saskia Time!
How could I be any more Saskia?
I ask a-ya?
It's im-poss-kia!
How could I be any more Saskia?
It's pre-posterah
'cause I'm Saskia!
"Ceremonial"
and we're ready
to begin the act, the stage
is set. There's no hurry,
and no turning back, you know
your role - but you tremble
'cause it means so much to you,
to make it great
make every gesture captivate
it's ceremonial
like a rain cloud
ceremonial,
like a wolf's howl
ceremonial
like a slow dance
you can breathe it in, like incense
ceremonial
like a moonbeam
ceremonial
like a love scene
ceremonial
like a vivid dream
it could mean anything
fake. rehearsed. artificial - such is life, but
it means everything you put into
on performance night, you catch
your breath, and leap outward
- it's a leap of faith
you trust yourself to make
your instinct says it's no mistake
it's ceremonial
like a rain cloud
ceremonial,
like a wolf's howl
ceremonial
like a slow dance
you can sink in it, like quicksand
ceremonial
like a moonbeam
ceremonial
like a love scene
ceremonial
like a vivid dream
it doesn't mean anything
when the curtain falls, and darkness draws around
you
to a crash of applause - you left the audience
all dumbfounded
and your curtain calls, could have gone on and on,
for hours and hours
but you steal away
with red hearts bunched in tight bouquet
lose the wardrobe, and make up
going natural, you step, with command
- into spotlight
without self-control, you know
what's next isn't scripted, but
you have the words by heart
by heart
the house lights fading into dark
it's ceremonial
like a rain cloud
ceremonial,
like a wolf's howl
ceremonial
like a slow dance
you can breathe it in, like incense
ceremonial
like a moonbeam
ceremonial
like a love scene
ceremonial
like a vivid dream
and it means everything
Just The Worst
Listen: you're just the worst
I met in my life. You made me
your man. I made you his wife,
'cause I never quite can come up
second, you see.
You're just the worst 'cause
you're tied with me.
When you're tied for first
there is no number two.
That's so much the magic
we each saw in you. It struck
up the magic we each found
in us.
It was how you and I each
needed to be. Tied for first
growing worst so fast
you can't trust
You're just the worst I met
in my time. I made you my
woman and you made you
mine, every step every aim
destroying what's ours: vows,
rings, homes and houses in
hotel bars.
I'm just the worst, now you
knew it was so. Time to break
down all the news and go.
We're just the worst, 'cause
we tried to be. We were tied
for first best, now
we'll never
be free.
Damn people with vigilante streaks
Damn
people with vigilante streaks
are the real problem with humanity
as it stands aloof, grinning with
"perfect quip"
to cap off a one-man/one-woman
personal vengeance jag, all
to avenge wronged
things,
Right?
Guess.
Superman
and Green Hulk are
comparatively healthy!
Fantasies outright, compared
to all the paramilitary identikit
punks of any and all capes, creeds,
crusades and no core at all, think they're
like
Batman.
Or some dark soldier
thing going on. Got no code
that works for them yet, of course
so: keep it hid online, scathing people
who aren't there! Feigning love
as bad as hate:
all to pose
peak human
with a masterplan
of course
one bad one:
off-course.
humanity
has always
to do without crusaders.
Eventually: masks rot, helmets
crack, capes catch you up in a knot
of sheets
streaked before all
who discover your
gall, bile, blood and
shit
and all
. end
like an
animal
in a self
made cage,
a
cave
that began up your own,
ass. What a whole
load
of human
waste
such people seek
and seek to become
eventually that streak
needs over.
done
Startful Stop.
My inner system's all flushed up
and out, and her I stand
surprised.
She's cool, full-stop
and I could give a fuck
for all her daring whys. I stand
or lay here wondering why not?
Or: was she calling mine? My
bluff, my hopes,
my all-for-once:
Her dragonback is drawn
in leaves and twisty roots: no
coffee, please
and no I had
no deft designs
on her, but
simply start and ease.
We let each chart our course:
Slow dance apart at each one's
pace: no recompense. For if love
works
and must be war, I'll bow
my head to glance its blade
with my stiff neck.
Forever
gaze, then lop it off.
Her voice is dulcet
blooms:
no chore.
She
calculates night hard,
but
soft. So musical, this
vunderkind
it could
go
better
undesigned
and
unaloft
Thursday, July 25, 2024
That Catcall?
So
Catcall her,
when she knows who you are,
and has given you let, without
hindrance or leave so fat! So
far, so good to say ("by her
leave"), say:
"Let me holler atcha, woman
who I call 'girl' all night,
all day, always."
Worder, Please
do do call her just!
That girl, because you
know she (in trust!)
has given you the breeze
easy-true, as a moment-held
truce that stays, and it says:
this woman
wants "girl"
from you. This
man
got
to honor
her so. So true.
That's a selves-held
plan. Girl! Honor her word!
If she doesn't knock you back
that time. She's preferred, you
in just such a way: gendersexually!
In those selfsame ways she has given
To be.
Make do
and go screw, if
you cannot hold that
She/Them/Her has always
been free, up at bat in such
sticky-pitch woo and counter
attach. And so equal
with you. Would you take it
all back, give inferior being?
Man, you know that noise
holds strong signal within:
Call it "equipoise."
When you-know-by-who
that
that ain't no
sin.
...against she, her,
you, me, and let
alone
Him.
Let your
declaration "Let me!"
holler out hung in parentheses,
question mark bells
long since wrung,
But.
Be open yourself,
to every fact where you're
wrong. Let the offer of hurt
itself prove
So strong
don't
make her
have to prove
between you,
daughter-son
If she ever called you
"daddy," that's
no issues
of hers,
you've
just
won
one
round
don't
forget you're no cat,
no dog, no not even
an ape
called that.
Wednesday, July 24, 2024
At some point, you end
At some point you end
on the opposite side of
wherever you’ve placed
your self
divide
Tuesday, July 23, 2024
I Feel Like I Do Right Now
You said. To the question:
could you ever want me?
More than him, instead?
Like some hymn revealed,
how you could never harm
in golden ruled miles trod
by skin and charm, streaming
balls in play, jounced round
by our wiles?
What a joint and a mutual affair
stood forth! Frothing rampant
as all, on all sides concoursed!
In the white, angel spew of
our oars, so to speak,
how we rowed our backs
so lost in the peek.
In the glimpse by
two eyes, and the mind's
behind. In the afterglows
too soon to come, such
tomes by such pout
of yours! And smiles
of ours. All mine
for forever and days
by says combined
...and imbibed!
Such gasping grunts!
Such grasping hands
seized here and now,
on hunts! Such immaculate
size, where Gojira holds
forth: Japan sighs, so wise.
It was all groan too long
in the smooth, curly shorts.
In our minds it was all.
Balled-up like twine, like
bread with the wine we'd
swilled so fine, wished,
swished round
in our round
mouths
to pass: each
to each, twinned lips
through teeth 'til at least,
at last, we soured, and
exploded release!
One
of us,
anyhow:
let you
please,
please, oh-or you
always do? Always did?
And did I? Was it fine, by
each? Someone came now
high in gushers down south
by and by, no tricks: and so
through downy Southland pass,
some fix.
Let us raise our vessels
and click: to peace!
In a secret, safe place.
Some sculpture of ease:
thine, tucked in all-hallowed
garden nestled and slick as time.
Where myth stands erased
to replace for good: truth
with beauty unscored.
So pure! So wait-what, whoops!
HEY! WRONG WAY you
ass
Oh shit. Whoooops, I
done fucked up at last
there, for goodness
or sake.
It was sure
a bad slip
for me
ever to take.
Forgive. Blame
culture? OK.
Pity, shame.
On us? No, me,
mine all of this fault:
blown dust, if you
once could forgive
bad aim. But
(and it's a fine, fair
and rounded but, you
've) If/Than Only
to touch! Your nose
or ear by some special
signed tell for the good
to appear! But
If
And...
You Know?
I would never want
to.
It's unnatural
to me to so
conquer
just
you
to the wisdom of youth
To the strength of youth
or the wisdom of age,
there's no end!
'Til they both
swap places
pretend
On All Sides
It's a game: so it's
called "All Sides"
or "Hedge
Bet Fund" laid
out with charms,
wiles, and trust in
one
very wrong
friend. So: two teams
now! Every field.
All leagued. Need
tips? Here's how:
Offense! & D!:
Fence? Fraud?
Don't slip,
since
Both have
won games.
Won championships
only rain downy fire
and smoke on the broad, fat plain
decent fans, holding hard pulled tight
hope hands caught throats
in
their beds
can't
sleep
for the chokes.
DAMN ALL
of the damned
wild beast straight
stats fact-run rules
now!
Sign your lease.
Get plastered
and panned.
Let us each
allow: this time
it's for us.
Once gone
so real. So
now. Know how?
Got it set?
In minds?
System? Break!
Score! Feel!
What a really weird deal.
Oh if only the payoff weren't
so danged fake. Oh if only we'd
placed our own bets, what a steal!
We'd have held
what we'd get.
Free money for wheels, with
nothing going on but the rent,
balanced well
by what you can't spend now, ever
reckon on wet, dry, try, tie wins
losses sort, advise
or
sell:
just
yet,
but soft:
not yet.
Too sweet?
Oh, oh no what the hell,
please. Beat! What did you
just tweet?
Get out! Get bent! We've been
living too well, it seems. It's
all spent. So long. Wave bye!
No sale! You can go straight
to hail in your empty sack
storm. Oh come in now,
honey. Wait. Let us hold.
Be here, now:
warm.
Plunk your
money and mine
from our mouths, once
more.
'Cause with any strong cause,
town, leagued with bright swords,
sad towels dripping strong effects,
laced sweat, blood, bile, balls, teeth
clenched up to forget, miss hard!
At once past! At the post, pass missed!
All to get released?
You bum! Don't miss! Or else
Go, now! Go! Be deceased to us!
These,
THIS
we can't ever forgive, quite.
Trust. Can't quite manage, expect!
Coach, minister all by mind, heart,
soul, spirit forged in one ball.
Hey. Take a slipped note:
bad bet.
That's us all
all the men women
thronged people, tossing
their face, form and joint?
For the sex, money glory on-point
on a sea seized wide, by that giant ass
screen play that can't be erased? Go!
Set! Bet! Stake!
It all comes down in this: disgrace
or that hard, beautiful
grace,
dignity
like a cat.
Nine lives simply can't all be wrong.
Cannot miss:placed on one dumb race.
Blest luck with a kiss, and one wild ass
fuck lass, lad: scratched, hissed. So...
shall not be never!
All we here, hear!
Drowning in bliss,
ignorance: what a crux.
What innocence gist.
We shall not quite
be "never," yet
forever
replaced,
nor missed.
Now pay out.
It's our round.
Get pissed
Forgive? Yes oh no
Yes.
Oh. Yes, but no
hold up. 'Cause
I'll tell you why
and then:
a woman
in cultural terms
her whole life
generally gets pounded
while wasting her time
on the wrong damn man
it turns out
she can't drive
him from
mind
except
the man—is he true? in
his turn and terms wants
more
and he
has to be worth,
yet
burns yet another big score!
for her! Who? True? Oh no
it takes
the one
he's with, now
screw the past
to the future post
undo
undo
to believe
it's
her
even once,
now you and I
could be "the
one" let alone
you.
When
neither can trust?
in themselves? let
alone
oh,
no
heart
shake
ice break
to bone
pour two
drinks
now
for oneself
and thou.
In slow
short glass
bound to break
here we go! Add
spirit
heat
stir
in stir
in gaol now
marking out time
from a boy to this
girl
that's a "Heterosexual
Monogamy Joint!" see
it
purple and swole
green, iced clear and
glassed
on-point.
To your eyes!
To your face, crazy
culture makes us
such
weird names.
DRINK!
It's a drinking game,
lust
plus invincible trust
when you've finally had
another that can make
you forget
when she's never any time
in the world left yet
and he can't bet stake get
more
than this one
when it's all that she needs
and
it's everything he wants
gone
bust
once
more.
raise a glass encore?
Yes. Watch this trick
I will pour you a
"Forgive Yourself Sore” or
Forgive Yourself Score.
Depends. Do you want
an onion or a cherry in
this
drink?
Sure
Monday, July 22, 2024
full on arts dissertation's disclothes
I stood up revealed
in college once
to explain to the prof
just what he wants:
nudity! In film: the
original optimal
special effect
to pack them in
carts, blankets
wrapped correct
in propriety, suffocating
tight to get out past the
posted guards in mind,
quick heart off the road
bumping down, through
all the way home
out quick comes the staff,
critiqued to the bone:
for unrealistic turns
of a shopworn
plot.
with no
audience
all high on pot,
macking snacks,
stealing kiss between
snooze and yawn
sneaking in booze
shouting boos 'til
dawn: oh,
it's no
fun
it's all done
in-camera
now
so
long
boom the gong wring
the curtain off:
POW
like you didn't expect
that bared eye show?
Come on. Where's the
car, babe
we gots
to go
Ukklandia Ho
Your flag is bolder
and prettier than
ours. Ours
is artistically
and symbolically an
eyesore! Deliberately!
Hoisted all awful
in battle for strong
stomachs and spines
tight in the balls! For woman
was at home, defended like
some fortress sewing
that damn thing like general
Betsy Ross: the American
Bestie, flagwise.
Yet I love it. True. A graphic
error terror on a bold hard
pole, left out in the storm
to flap breeze, and so keep
us cockled-up and warm
through ice-locked daze,
wondering: could I? No way.
Too tough, those revolutionary
twerps, casting off so way better
a flag objectively...yet? Thought
of the day du jour.
Means Jack Nil
in context. Also:
it's NOT bolder and prettier BECAUSE:
Def Leppard is better than Queen!
Def Leppard simply IS better than
Queen. Appalling. No way Def
Leppard should be better than
Queen. They wanted to BE Queen,
the Def Leppard way! Everybody
MUST SING LIVE. Yet
in doing so, partly
because the drummer
got an arm off and shit, they
just kept going, Def Leppard
outlasted Queen to become
THE WORLD'S DEF LEPPARD
FOR THE QUEEN! Hm.
Since Elizabeth too has passed
her mantle on to Chuck Winsor
or Windsor or whatever, maybe
it's time
to reevaluate this whole "Queen
stank, because Def Leppard rules"
theory, which the whole world
upholds ME wildly in online, seemingly.
What IF
online itself is
SOMEHOW! SELFSAME
WRONG?
Ouch.
If so though,
that capering, rampant flag
you UKklandiars have is simply
best
in the world
white and royal
naval darkest blue
and blood all over
it in stripes red
of a bold interlocking
of vertically hexed diagonal
crosses. You, Yes, you!
Could teach a three-part art
and history class on that Shit!
And The Lep!!
Would barely be half the semester in it.
A huge FOOT NOTE in the game like
Sherlock Holmes, boy! obviously
though the Pet Shop Boys leave both teams
in the dirk, I mean the dirt. With their dicks
in the dirt too scrambling to score some
ancient soccer match
called fooooot bul
shit
sport, but true
the fans have some flaggy
outfits
on
it
...
go dallas
Sunday, July 21, 2024
father's cowfeathers
So the issue is.
The topic isn't
both-ways germane, so
why not work it out between
collective heart-brain?
It's cause.
Cause doesn't
operate sentimental
shove.
You had
to be
there first
with me,
to get into it,
"applesnake"
to get into it,
"serpent-dove"
to get into it us,
with we:
a trust
that had
to be
between
before we,
you and me
could
mean,
love
Friday, July 19, 2024
keeps happening when
It keeps happening where
everyone in the world
(one suddenly discovers)
knew "it"
all along
and It's always
different and it's
always right. So obvious now
that you should have known, but
!!
??
Why didn't any one tell us this?
Why must it go by blindside miss?
'Til at last it all fits this missing piece
we digest and sort out, adjust up our
aims
then the next level gets
revealed in
sane.
It keeps
happening every what
when where plain get
way out in front, no!
don't
stay
in
your
lane
"Worst Surfers" (proposed Vedder/Stipe collaboration)
Surf the worst / between us what
hell, are you doing? not our business, but
The worst! ohhhhhhhh between us
Your breath is making us drown
Your breath is making us drown
Listen you bald ass clown my lord
Quit flailing our limbs, now going in
Time to stop shredding our vocal chord
All I can do is close eyes and sway
That's not going to save us out here, no
Not any day, with the stars crashing in
in music box souls
with weird beard chin
just loose your board
and,
lose that bored expression,
man we both just scored! Uh
Surf the worst
Between us
What the hell you doing out here?
Your business? Worst oh worst
Between two men
If any show up let's
Pretend we're them
I'll howl deep
If you whine hard
Push in pull beside me
with all regard
It's a posted beach
no rescue now
what's this warm tide oh
between us somehow too
oh
man
smells
Oh uhhhh man!
Smeeeelllleee-ells
Like salt spray and hot old
college rock dells
Did you do that?
(no guitar solo)
below rock bottom
we'd never want, because
we can't lack that.
Anytime in our safe
space: one mind, no
breaks, no taking back.
It's why it
titillates
us
so,
so
long
we've
had to grow
and know what's hard,
real, right: here right. Then,
Now. We people just become
much more oneself. We go,
unbreaking bow.
of self or soul.
It's nothing hard.
We rise above who
can't control and what
we fantasize about
is just our fascination with
our best, worst, blest thing
we don't want:
an empty mouth.
Sad eyes
Your pout
No vows,
now no. No
promise binds
on future self.
No word for what's so wrong
but "no."
It's only what we don't allow.
Because we'd never really want
to groom one's self into brute
beast out hollering
to be
deceased
Go, horses
groom each
other wild.
Bride and bridle,
friends made hot
to fuss and care
each other's ways.
It's always someone
else's party, now! Today!
And that's okay 'cause
ours won't end
until betrayed
by our last friend.
Until that day
so bright we blink
in sublime pains we shouldn't take,
painstakingly we part, we stake.
We welcome wants we hate to think
We feel we couldn't be so wrong.
And so we're not.
Though dreamed so long,
we do wake up. So,
so long dream.
We couldn't
really
want to be
that thing.
Below rock bottom we become
what we know we can't
live with
sun
adding down
for up to eight hours
of powerful relief
sleep
waking up
in a dream so weird
so real you can't tell
the name for it
is generic
for known effects sudden
uncontrollable movements
which may be permanent
lowered ABC
ZYX off the charts take
two
doctors and
ask them both about
how to fall in
love not with
you
oh no no no no you're
in the other business
end. Nope! Sorry
ask them
each
independently! about
some
health
and behavioral
benefit to fall
in love
with this other great
doctor, you know
nobody asked you
no takebacks
in moments played
upon the bases
she has made
Down south on Earth
where life don't hurt
too much I know
she never flirts
no, nor do I except
with death and life
by every beat and breath,
but
it can't
count as flirt
you know
you'd give it all
for one less
throw
Thursday, July 18, 2024
switchbait
six dogs trapped in a car
in distress bear is driving
how can that be the dogs
eyes white and round
no visible pupils
to the teacher the moral
of this scene: blank
their eyes
seen
white
equals
round
help for hours! now
their dog beg eyes
all round
the careening speed trap
police nowhere
responding to calls why
why
the dogs' eyes! so
whine like sirens
giving bad yelp
review to cops
sleeping in stolen
vehicles staging
their hidden stings
viciously no help
dogs are trapped, eyes
signal horror help
trapped in the car
the dog eye signals
horror help! to man
hero of the piece he
swoops down like vendetta itself crashes
his convenient machine: a courage device
of his own, and barely invincible
knowing his own death many times
(a fantasist an emotional verbal self-abusism
pro: paid for this!) "damn my day off" he
leaps from it compassionately
this exploding wreck
of a man sensing
the dogs
sensing
distress bear
-ing up down tight now
as best
we can
under car conditions he
ripped the door from its only hinge
using jaws of his own life at a speed
approximating terror
terror
terror kilometers in an empathy second
which
is much shorter than any
human second the dogs
waited loyally eight years
to be rescued from their car slash
trap slash home but the bear
evilly
was lost on the road
until the man
sensing heroism in
the bear ate him
Wednesday, July 17, 2024
unrealistic candles
Unrealistic
candles
worth
no game
because
gratuitous.
Shaped
wax sex
and nudity,
to burn in
scents
that smell
like us
Available blood,
red, phlegm,
green or semen
white, or bile
black no shit
brown tone or
yellow, no.
You see we
bought those up
as jokes, and sent
them back. Too
vulgar. Gross
What gift was this?
For whose surprise?
A light so wavered,
fainting bright in
falling size, in
melting sighs.
Who flesh and blood
in spirit breathes
by life burnt-in
enough to grieve,
when it leaves
human being holes
shaped perfectly
Shot through your heart
just
missed
your soul.
Too much
to buy? Steal?
Take? Make?
Grow?
light only one
or rows,
on rows
let's stand
revealed in
deepest clothes
of sunset rose
on sunrise hay,
or strip and beat
our naked skins,
'til punishment
seems just.
okay
to us.
Look.
It's much
to see. Too much
to seek alone,
what two can't
find or be. But
I won't mind
if you don't care
for me. Forgive us
please. We've had
to flee.
So keep it well
within, and kind.
Slept rough, wept openly!
Leap out and cheer, since
now it's true!
We've only death
too far to mourn, as life
grows piece by missing parts
of you: so near, and much
too much, too dear to
fear bad luck and fate.
Not here. This little candle's spent
a crumpled, drowning wick.
We've come too late. So
make and mark our time
with summer's iced intent.
Beyond no end is serious.
It had to be in each of us.
This was no game
to form them up!
So let them shine
in token trust.
In flame, we'll burn
by light we loved, oh!
Too much
once
Other ways
Property won't work, because you can't get it, can you?
What you get can't work, because we don't know how to keep
Waking up don't work. At least you have some place to sleep
We need other ways to make life good
Not now
Just things
We wish
We could
find other ways to make life good
Happiness won't work because it's made of missing parts
Global peace would work. But how could anybody start?
Love and trust would work, except we always fail or run.
Waiting peace and calm is way too much to ask someone.
Not now
Just things
We wish
We could
find other ways to make life good
Greater good don't work, because the greater good ain't us.
Lives of service work, except you're ripped off on the bus.
Beauty works for now, but was it ever any good?
Innocence somehow got lost in could and should and would.
Not now
Just things
We wish
We could
find other ways to make life good
every fucking day
as well as I can. Seek no risk but what I find
Keep coming back, creating for you safe space
Whoever you are, I'll never get in your face
every fucking day
every fucking day
every fucking day
every fucking day
Whatever I give, you don't need to take from me
as long as I live, I want you to be so free
I can't be your friend, without indivisible trust
We could always just end, or come back knock off the rust
every fucking day
every fucking day
every fucking day
every fucking day
My five year plan is to pull back and make my mark
Wherever you stand, I'm out shining in the dark
With all that you gave, still grounding and centering me
I want to behave the way you wished I could be
And if there isn't a pony ride
And if there isn't a castle keep
And if there aren't any rainbows left
we should not be ashamed to weep
every fucking day
every fucking day
every fucking day
every fucking day
Revenge is a ghost that haunts us in the world's eyes
The truth is the best, we ever could get used to
I'm always impressed with everything we could do
every fucking day
every fucking day
every fucking day
every fucking day
My one year plan is to still be alive or die
as well as I can. I never could just
stand by
Sunday, July 14, 2024
I Will Be Past.
I will be past
The Raven's mark:
made vain upon the writing
desk where once tasked Poe,
where croaked Poe then, by muse
bird-struck and pinion-pen, on wavy
pane of window grime. Cleaned
once too soon, then let
too slow to shine
on rhyme:
"Forevermore."
Was never,
once.
No.
That was then.
It's what one wants:
the other
wonts.
The one who can't shut out.
You're the one who
won't shut up, and
'You're The One Who
Don't Shut Up,' and?
Don't engage.
So? Lution
solved.
Mutation
scored upon
resolve in brightline
burnt past heal or scar.
Trauma is life.
We've come so far
we might have balls:
admit to strife, but
I can't be the harm
once caused, if every
time it's mine by laws.
You've got to learn
the difference, once:
some one must cut
some other twice:
three times for luck, but?
Last cut counts for well and good.
In great amounts. So-so?
So now? It's I who'll be
so ever-present in the lee
of such a stone left so
unturned.
I will survive the other's
heart to see. Not soft,
not
hard.
If that's the case?
Then be it thus.
There's no must
needs nor time
at all, to need
to waste
between
us two.
We
need not be,
at all, since you.
Since only harm
can come to future
you and yours?
Strike won.
You've scored;
all game is yours.
I've got the gate.
It's as you say.
We couldn't wait.
I will be past
The Raven's mark:
made vain upon
the writing desk
where once tasked Poe
where once croaked
Poe, by pinion-pen
on wavy window,
cleaned too soon
so grimed too slow:
"Forevermore"
was never, once.
No. That was
then.
It's what one
wants:
the other
wonts.
the caped police
the caped police in uniforms
all different, personalized
and warm
so bulletproof and hard
they are
as they invite us in:
your public house
now! Pass
the bar
this beatdown we
all deal sound thunk
and skin bone break
we voted up
so present now:
a gift to you
all couchbound critics
coming due shall
hail! Hail! Hail!
Since they don't want
to fall in pools
or alley stunt
to be upheld
by forumed forms
in shadow caps,
star-chambered wells
so won and worn
to meet their fates
so far
from
gaol's
private
disgrace
“All critical forms and expressions lead back to Hot Dog On A Stick for sure”
A work in progress
for sure. Part of it the problem is
it.
Plainly falls into the pattern
of modern doggerel: the “lyric
poem.” Suitable for LYRES, LIARS
and practically little else! Bald
of intent and natural fires burnt
all smooth. No clothes! The ribald
brigand troubadour is trouble!
And far from troubadorable. One
should
be
belted out of the room! for these puns,
some of them! And yet…and yet
the emotion’s run
true through all your
life. Or mine, it has.
A finished work
at this point, yet: every finished
work is only the latest snapshot
of a progress in-process. Workshoppers? Fellow
poets? CRITICS ESPECIALLY! I love critique, and
don’t spare the pounding-pole in the huge butter
bucket where the worst lemonade in the world
(in terms of sane health regards, arguably) is forged
pure and plenty by…wow. Teenagers
in
really cool costumes! Red and white and yellow
and blue. AND THOSE HATS. You could stop
traffic and write parking tickets in
a hat like that
Now
I want some
sort of
sticky meat item
why
"Lemon Lime"
Life's been one bitter peel.
Spittin' out pith and rind,
no fruit left to find
My throat's been so parched for juice
Not a drop to be found
I'm drying up inside and out
And you've lived it same as me:
Shriveling where you should bloom
You can't quench the drought in you
But where these two parched souls meet
Suddenly it rises sweet inside of you and baby we are
Livin' life
Lemon lime
Livin' like
Lemon lime
You and me so refreshing
Livin' life
Lemon lime
Livin' like
Lemon lime
Teach each other's tongues a lesson
Baby we are
Ooh. Ooo, ooh-oo
we don't know
what we are, where we're going
baby we don't even know
Where this juice comes from
So shocking sour and flower sweet
Where acid tongue and sugar meet
Our love's just a fruitful one
A bumper crop from laden tree!
I'm squeezin' you 'cause you picked me
We're livin' life
Lemon lime
Livin' like
Lemon lime
You and me so refreshing
Baby we are livin' life
lemon lime
Livin' like!
Lemon lime
Teach each other's tongues a lesson
Baby we are
We don't know what we are
but baby,
We are washed out
in bubbles now.
Tickle tongue
Tickle nose
To my head it goes and goes,
but where did this flood come from?
When you and me were desert climes,
but where we meet the river rise
And orchards spring from rock soil
We bend our backs but never toil...
Lemon lime! Lemon Lime!
Tongues in tart sweet potent line
and arcs galore, aplenty fine
spirits level, spare the wine
We don't know what we are,
where we're going baby
we don't even know
Friday, July 12, 2024
5 poems cheap
Language is just.
A trick no-trick:
to lead from yourself
in each moment so fit!
That no one would ever believe
it of you.Yet they have to admit
the advantage.
True.
Since at
every each pause
you have played no game.
How you gave yourself up
by ulterior aim laid pure
every time, and plain in view.
Quite before you could know!
How could this be true? Can
you get free and clear, clean,
fine, so-so? Every time
no one ever would buy
something never once
sold, oh no.
In each consequence
every moment unbound
frees you up by ungodly extents
to a mindful and thoughtless
effortless, valid, sound bent,
by a character arc biased hard
in known points: aiming
right straight through as
a matter off-course in a
wave-function particle
line-cut you.
You might think no one could
believe in you, but why would
you want two doing something
so dumb? You're the one freed
up. Let it be so, mote. Do not
want, lack, need their belief
in you.
'Cause eventually...
sans manipulate, no no influence
mate! They've
no
option
but
two.
Thursday, July 11, 2024
"The Path Of Sin"
Wednesday, July 10, 2024
"Kick It Any"
We don't have to go no place special
You don't need to get all dolled up, yo
I'm cool with wherever we end up, so
Where do you wanna go?
We can kick it any
way you want
We can kick it any
where you want
We can kick it any
day you want
Long as you're kickin' with me
Only
Let's stand in line for two whole hours
And then say sike when they try to let us in
Walk off laughing 'bout something else
That we could never explain to them
And anything we ever try to do
It doesn't matter if it works or all falls through
No master plan could hold a candle to
Hanging out
Kickin' with you
Anyway you want! Aw, we can kick it
Anywhere you want! Aw, we can kick it
Anyday you want! Long as you kick it
With me!
ONNNNLYYY
So draw plan A to the nth degree
And we can carry it right straight through to Z
But we've got some kind of sweet plan B
Contingency: you and me, baby we can kick it!
Any way you want. Oh, we can kick it
Any where you want. Oh, we can kick it
Any day you want. Long as you kick it
With me!
ONLY any way you want! Aw, we can kick it
Any where you want. ONLY can kick it
Any day you want?
Long as you kick it with me.
ONNNNNNN
LEEEEEEEE
Tuesday, July 09, 2024
I tasted the candles
when I was already far
too old for such mouthy
works & experiments: ten
twelve,
definitely not eleven but
probably four. I would
seriously
bite anything red
that could take a tooth, but see
SEE?
I already knew science.
The word. I knew what
it was and it has never
altered from that: one
observation,
lifelong
and a test
to disprove
in deliberate
aimed intent
every thing you found
to believe about how
a human being
could be
reduced
to a light
,
Sunday, July 07, 2024
Old Testament
See. SEE? Testament renews
itself
in
witness far,
too rude
for shelf.
Yet Solomon
had Wisdom,
once.
I want her name
canonically to rocket
off the hallowed rooves,
to abjectly and utterly
move the rest
in us: Destroy
All
Cunts.
Just British, though!
For we know best, on
Earth
that word
means no contest.
On grounds more basic
than we know, on
Earth that word
mans holies,
Yo.
So,
rest.
"no body likes it rough"
No body
likes it rough
cells bruised and
pierced right through
but I hope you do not
regret in a penitential
way telling me what
you do. No
body
likes
it
rough, but
it sure can be rough
at sea, and sometimes
one woman might love
one man to be
to her
far wilder than seas
might
be
That's never gonna be me,
though
man.
TOUGH.
I don't mind it wild,
no,
'cause
I am.
Truth is?
Straight shot,
no hope, no
body
ever liked
"it" rough
from me
I hope
.
Impromtitude
Microphone take, no drop just yet
TIME to origin ATE CREE-ATE, BET?
I WANT MY TWO DOLLARS don’t
holler your spores, you got slick
scoot mucous and phlegm some
adore, so coot cutie cooch boots
to the ants of swarm! Go get your
hive mind when it bees too warm!
Go get your sane in
Get your balance CZECH.
Get out in Oklahomo where they
dance sing correct, correct how?
Wrecked what? I AM NOT ONLY
AIM just YET NO BODY MIND
DILLEMA IS SANE, PROBABLY
say LEM! Lemmy Kilmister popped
all the head-up wide-kneed stance
in the shop, slapped the BASS AN
-THEM
Calling ‘Ace of Spades!’
Well I’m the Ace of Fives
Don’t jab your jive jazz HANDS
up my conscious rise, or I’ll ride
you right from conscience
straight breaking the plane,
liminal.
Go express! Ain’t no
stops in your brain
or
well.
You know it.
Well better than I could ever
FLOW IT, HOLBES
wait up hey hey wait
what the what’s the
what’s a ‘holbes’ though
HOLBES?
I’m calling you holbes
so check it with your own,
‘Mike.’ that’s a true mean
measuring stick only a mother
could like, only you can lick
your own
holbes,
right?
OK OK MEBBE
kick Motorhead maybe
watch The Young Ones
Monty Python is Dead
Tott, Long Live The Neetch
(If He Taught You To Curse, But)
You live in reserve, what
he could
not
touch.
Let alone
reach
______________________
Optional Art
“You Can Touch”
Crowded House art
by Nicholas Seymour
(the bassist and visuals
maven on stage and
screen, saving)
Brain Pan
I am learning it out
as I do: all aim
from the slow dense
basis I can’t but maintain
so dense and so slow
I can top bottom all.
And I pan consequence
just to own all your pain
that I myself caused because you
dropped balls.
It’s okay. Nothing serious
here staked or won.
Let us be sincere, now
cause our journey
is balls
I mean is
alls
I mean
is yalls no
walls.
We-All’s just
w’alls
next?
done
______________________
Optional Art
Saturday, July 06, 2024
“Un Re De Generative Filler”
I truly don’t
mind! Ads,
marketing,
propaganda,
intel, “influence”
“manipulation”—it’d
be insane for me to mind, fearsome as my emotional
intellect has become, and indeed: always was.
It’s normal.
Most people naturally have that keen and experience
-whetted a prodigious and extraordinary emotional
intellect for need and want, like and love. It’s
the people who act all “WE
gotta be careful” or “THE WANTY
NEEDY people are the threat!” that
we’d be wise to be leery as hell of, to the point of
excluding their lame ass
from our social parties. All
out lollygagging and pop
-eyed incredible, warning
how “OH NOES: Other People
are Susceptible! To BAD AD
INFLUENCE!” These
are literally
the only ones
for whom it’s a factor! They
KNOW they’re susceptible. That’s why
they project it weaponized
outward as a “universal” warning,
twerped out and hormonal (testosterone
and adrenaline problem inside, largely), spraying
dumb ass-spew
verbally in all directions, yet
wise eyes POP large to recognize
and return the “warning” right
-about in its ORIGINATOR’S FACE:
“No, pal.
The problem is SOLELY
AND ONLY YOU: WHO
SAID IT. Who JUST TOLD
ON SELF.” The rest of us
know what we want!
We also know a sales
job when we see one.
OK? We’re interested!
To navigate the exper
-iences ourselves, and
settle only for what ma
-kes us happier faster, l
-onger, better AND sure.
That’s one hell of a “settle,” and people
throughout the entire intelligence bell-
curve are ALL way the hell better at it t
-han the “influenceophobes,”
so-called
cretins!
Think it’s
other people
the danger. It’s
only themselves. Cretins.
Every single, solitary, susceptible
one.
You
can
always tell, too, because they always tell you.
They’re phobic of irrational fear of being
gotten to do what they wanted to: to
be of use! To another, and not only
their own lame ass! CRETINOUS
WRETCH! DOCTOR YOUR OWN
INNER MASTERPIECE, HOW DARE YOU
It’s normal
Verbatim Rando Online #1
~ Verbatim Random Comment Reply
to someone suggesting music is
the window to the "soul" (or
words to said effect) ~
_____________________________
That’s…a mind-blower. Thanks
for that. Never heard it. Considering
it,
though. I’d say
music is such a
window! Wow!
One that conceivably runs
both one-to-one and one-to
-many, where
“one”
is both producer and/or
consumer of music. Shit.
Too deep for my blood. See,
I’ve always heard “the eyes”
are windows of the soul, or
to the soul, which I buy. I buy
it to precisely the extent (not
“degree,” naturally) I’d buy
the independent existence of
“human souls.”
Not much. Not at any price,
and not at all “too surely.” But
still! If this is the definition of
“soul”:
- a soul is the damage a body inflicts on the spirit inhabiting it
-me
…and it is the definition of “soul,” then
it’s been damn hard to deny! Deny what?
That some-to-many animals have souls, given
solely where “spirit” means only “breath” or
“light,” naturally. The living part: exuded,
inspired, expiring with every division of
cells.
Being renewed…using hot, pokey, one-to-one
unions even. Sorry!
It’s not supposed to be confusing, “soul.”
However, given weird janky definitions, it’d
take a real asshole to consider its existence
even supported or supportable. ‘Nuff said!
“Excelsior” is wood shavings.
Make Mine Marvel.
Friday, July 05, 2024
evolve
For traveling on highways bugs are much too soft
Sixty miles an hour kills the dumb ones off
Further from the road the smarter ones buzz on
Do their thing, and pass those smarter genes along
Life is not a tragedy, it's problems we can solve
Oh, oowhoa, oh oowhoa you better evolve
I don't know if the aliens are studying us
Probing genitalia and brains and such
But we had better get our rockets out in space
So we can find ourselves an unsuspecting race
Hassle them like sheep, and not let on that we're involved
Oh oowhoa, oh oowhoa you gotta evolve
I heard about the supervirus holocaust
Invented by the rainforests to kill us off
Well some of our mad scientists should intervene
Create replacement photosynthesis machines
Then it would be simple: pave it over, problem solved
Oh oowhoa, oh owhoa we get to evolve
Thursday, July 04, 2024
America Duty
America! Is the land of milk
and honey, you're the cream.
Let's tie you up, on a pedestal
the better to be seen.
Around the world! They
will cry your name, and
face the sun: a blaze of red!
Dying in the west.
And all the world is so happy now,
the change has surely come.
America! We can't do without
the thing you have become.
So hoist the flag! Run it up the pole,
and let it fly so pure and white!
You know that it was bleached.
We all want a part of your progress
We all want a part of your hope
I guess you can have your American
Way, with the globe.
America! Eat some fireworks and dogs,
whatever's due. It's time to come,
so accountable and right and just and true.
So sound the bell! Let it toll and roll
thunderclap skies so dark and blue!
It cracked the dead of night.
Tomorrow, we could all get along:
the living and the dead. America,
we could do without your godforsaken
bed of endless sighs, scaling up in size
to scare off peace, endless blood feuds
to reap fields of release.
It's Captain A! Batman, LexCorp
too the world has come to love.
It's Mickey Mouse, operational
to reap where we can't shove
with woke rewards, reparations
bought, sued, tried and tied
make so much green!
We might as well have lied.
Let's kill the Hulks, Blobs
and Gojiras before they grow
so mad! Their human fans
eat their genitals, oh no,
so sad. too bad.
For all the rest?
Why not wash a load of finest clothes
and see what's cute? Enough to hit the beach
without shelling it, pounding it into flying
body parts and submission generations
ago for once
first
you know
just to be safe
"Sacrament"
Last night, I saw you in my dream
what's more, I think that you saw me
and you were walking alongside.
Alone & naked, you looked into my eyes:
You're tired of life. Of what you can do,
and tired of the things you can't.
You need someone to teach, and
someone to learn, and someone
to understand.
Well I will join you.
I will join you, in this:
it's a sacrament.
We walk a world we did not make
We tried. It wasn't to our taste
We speak of wisdom and virtue
I think the secret is inside you
You're tired of love, without knowing why
Of flying with no place to land
With no one to teach, and no one to learn,
and no one to understand.
Well I will: join you.
I will join you: in this.
It's immaculate.
And we met in a place where nobody goes,
and something passed between us, over and
over and over and over.
The moment is gone. You're left here with me
We hold each other in our hands
With nothing to teach.
And nothing to learn.
And nothing to understand.
But I will: join you.
I will, join you!
In this.
We're transcending it.
It's immaculate.
It's a sacrament
the shark machine
Don't rub your shark the wrong way.
You know the scales on his back are like razor quills. He's a perfectly tooled and tuned machine to strip you to skin, devoured at will, so ram his dumb ass harpooned deep inside a dance far too murky and cool to evolve. So either he gets you or you will my love. Either way
it's no problem you mutually solve
Tuesday, July 02, 2024
"Toothpaste Kiss"
I'm sure you're so presentable
before you do a thing at all
Well okay, maybe brush your teeth,
funky as the funk can be
But there's a lot the world don't know,
I'd like to find out some or more
and maybe if I could show you
anything you'd like to see?
I want to taste your toothpaste kiss.
I want to taste your toothpaste kiss.
I'll try to guess what brand you use
I want to wake up next to you
I'm not the kind of guy to fear
commitment love and all of that
If you're the one and so are we,
I'm sure we'll know eventually
'Cause love's a thing that's hard to find
and love's a thing you can't define,
and love's a thing I wouldn't take
lighter than a ton of bricks, but
I want to taste your toothpaste kiss
I want to taste your toothpaste kiss
I'd try to guess what brand you use
I want to wake up next to you
So do you like it just like this?
I want to baste your chicken lips
Try not to mess the sauce you use
With nothing but my natural juice
I'm not the kind to want to give
a thing that you'd ever regret
'Cause what would be the point of that?
I'd rather take you all right back.
Sincerely I won't mind you miss,
if you and I are no one's catch,
but truthfully I'd love to eff.
It's not a thing we would forget,
but do you love, a touch like this?
I want to baste your chicken lips
I want to try Pad Thai fish, too
I want to wake up next to you.
I love you give me such a look
I want to write a fishing book!
So do you mind or heart me, miss?
I want to taste your toothpaste kiss
And do you want only one wish?
I'd rather aim for three, ourselves!
I want to wake up next to you.
A genii is genius times two.
I want to taste your toothpaste kiss
I want to taste your toothpaste kiss
By native tongue, no subterfuge
I'd like to guess what brand you use
"Dutch Courage"
It's a slander from history:
French envelopes, Dutch
courage and Huguenot
sex. Surprise!
We didn't need any
protection or drinks
to fall into Chinese
fortunes and die.
Oh, but just little
deaths. Petites morts
all around! Worked
to grand mal
proportions
inside you
end me.
To tack
on "in bed!"
to the end of a
scrip of white
paper baked in
to vanilla, flat dough
is supposed
to make
otherwise
boring-as fortunes
come true.
Well, it worked
quite a treat
between us
with no
clothes
Me/You
become
Us/We
for good.
Not a bad drop of blood,
none of alcohol's flood
only just what we’ve got!
Soberly and so grave, so
we know our own might,
and think may be we
should have
or have
(k)not
Good miss
& good save.
"Canadian Standoff"
She loves being tricked.
"Who doesn't?" She thinks.
"It's perfect legit when
you trust some one."
Well,
I don't
see the point
of her purposeless
lies, unbelievably
told at the point
of a gun, but
I know it's a plastic
pistol, see-through.
And I see that it's pink
with a glimmering
fluid. I don't know
If it's flammable,
acid or booze.
So I tell her
the truth: shoot
yourself!
We
lose.
Sunday, June 30, 2024
Time was.
There is no time. Only energy spent.
Only motion and mass, spreading out
without end, thinning out to less dense,
dissipating its heat.
Yesterday's not a country, a playground,
a street: yesterday isn't gone, not a dream,
never was.
It is all still in play.
It is right here with us, just
dinged up and smashed down by forces of roll.
But it's all with us now, speed of light, proximal.
It is all still in play. Not a bit of it gone.
Not created, destroyed, merely: moving,
moved on.
We have kept up
with most of it, some
runs away. We give chase
at slow pace, in a state
of decay
which we call
"today"