sweetcake
I believed Death
when I met it at the border. So sexy. It spoke an old fury under me. You need
to crash it slicked its mouth. My goose pimples rose as crops. Wander into the keyhole of
yourself. Wear your skull cap outside. My crust begged my mind to stop but my flesh red
tremored for pollution.
Vegas escalator
You wear a Hawaiian shirt.
You hold my hand.
We go up an escalator.
You are pie.
Crouching close to you
is whipped cream.
The sun flashes jealous
in orange.
The sun incinerates
the possibility of eating
pie with whipped cream.
We slow
slippery
slices
slipping through each
other. We
illuminate nothing.
slipping, slippingslippingsli
pping,Slipping, slippingslippin
gslipping
The sun can't understand.
I'm on top? you're on top. I'm on
top. you'reontop. I'mon top? You're
on top? I'm ontop? You're on
top.
You are blurry gray.
Your teeth is indicator.
Your teeth as elevator,
passing below my eyes
above my eyes
We keep sweets
in corners
of our mouths
for when we
teeth each other.
The sun blinds us
from us fully forming,
from us fully,
from us.
You turn back to me
but not all the way.
A loose grip.
Rihanna - Needed Me
His palm was bigger than his face
and he held it out to me as a stage.
The desert wrinkles stretched into
cancelled inlets. Immense thirsty, all
white and brown, disparaging
cracked and flat. I said Gross Jeremy
! Get your hand away from me you
fuck. He disintegrates into more
objects, more objects. His tears, his
pout. Verbs and preposition al
phrases for objects: splashing into
cracks, swirling through dead valleys
of his palm. Young waterways
pissing glee through his hand. See?
There you go you big cry baby. He
drops another big fat tear. All you
needed was your own bullshit.
fire for fire
Vibrating strangers as myself
while I drive
It's a rest stop, Goldie.
Her face turns away,
into glass.
Anything for a break.
Her disdain clamps
as reflex.
She sharpened into me.
Uncurled me into a boy
naked at the bottom
of a lake.
I thought I was
being lifted.
My siamese questions
jitter harder in the road:
Am I ripening?
Am I rotting?
We run them over again and
again.
thud thud. thud thud.
thud thud. thud thud.
I'm singing
into empty space.
I'm swinging in the valley
of the crater.
Her face turned into
glass.
I wish we were
a family
even of ash.
I've been behind
all the doors.
There's no
planet , no lovers.
Bumblebees buzz
near the toilet.
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