Friday, May 29, 2009

Bat For Lashes Sure Can't Act For Shit But Lord Knows I'd Love To Plunder Her Pits With My Derelict

5 Poems


Reporting my taxidermy conflict
Pestered by the speed of erotic intersections
I censor your urban sprawl
Tightening collars on crispy cellulite
Censored your oak built cocoon
But I will not
Ejaculate when you ejaculate a bold alcohol dependency
Of accessories climbing onto myself
Thanking their drinks for chin cancer stress
And again I’m rubbing myself to listen how slurs
Inform the fossil of its insomnia
I bite and bait your funny muffin
Asses slap and posters desire what’s skidding forward
Disguised as a red puppy you throw me off the floor
You waiver my tube and blow bubbles from my sirloin
We lap up platters of barking gravy
Mannequins congest realms
Repeating the primordial flash
In the cellulite manger
Pilgrims beg us to devour wiggles
Repeating the primordial flesh
All torn and covered with half twin bed crust
Accessorized fossils cleanse the chunky
Kinetic meals of sirloin cocoons
Again I’m rubbing the gravy skid
Listening to urban sprawl ejaculate bubbles
My collar of insomnia tightens
An erotic crisp all tubesocked and domesticated


Meaningless carbonated twinkles sputter about
Whole piloting fits and
Churches totally coiled, but
I've been working my phones at the office and I
Really nailed it. I especially
Can’t wait to sleep with my little pickles. They
Crack me ducks.

Don't worry, the pricks aren't yours. Ho-ho, hence the
Nightgown stump. I would love to see
Less beach someday. How my wings will
Have a nice round belly going, as though you are about to
Drag me off to a cave and brand me with chicken ribs.
It will be good to hear you eating.

“Wait? what? wait? what?” That was fun
Spun from the Yellow Pages to loosen the altitude.
And our plane ride was pretty weird for an hour/ hour and a half
Due to the fact that after being
Watched in the air
On one of those little TVs, we crashed a small helicopter
Into the 20th floor of a bldg on
72nd and York just like Corey Lidle of the Yankees, and
Indeed we are pretty strange to watch
When we are on a plane.

Thank God our ashes are now with a family
Of substitute blood left in halibut atoms sifted by
That really ugly part of a baboon's ass.

It is filled to the brim with a great reverence and knowledge of the world, of philosophy, history, anthropology, literature. 
I spend half of the morning jerking-off into a disease.


If you’ve made it there yet, mine was good, although I sun-burnt the
Top of my left foot. Otherwise, I’m well.  I thought
I would let you know that I’m glad our

Danger is real.
It is such a beautiful lather.
It is a
Distraught mother cutting her nipples off.
It is the silence of plenty.

And I’m glad our
Choices include the cash glued onto 
A job that is tightly
Wound in hallways and mawkish kindling
Indented by the randomly put together
Copies of anything raised after
I got to thinking about our conversation

And I am afraid,

So I apologize.  I’d really like to talk about myself and learn
More about what you think. I just stopped
For a bite so I’m going home now.  I'm taking
The trail of fires caught in your spine
To get clean.


Horrendous how the animals feel me
Stalking you, usually not the slightest bit concerned, they must 
Seem something latched to your thighs. The kindness of a controlling species
With lots of sentimental thoughts and
Memories about itself, and I should thank you for that someday.

It's so nice
To have happy memories of my high school sweetheart. Seeing
Burns a very surreal thing in me too. Sometimes I seem to think I don't really Exist
Because I haven't seen me in 100 years. But then you appear and I
Realize that we are still in the same world

At first,
And I experience outbursts of mold in my chest. This lasts for about four
Days until depression kicks in.

And right as I'm beginning to
Eliminate sitting twice a day, there’s
Sheep if the voices sleep.

A hand without fingerprints
Flashes on the horizon.
You may see only
The stormy sky
Of the last time
I was seen taking objects off of it.

Our siesta is at least half of what I’ve said.
Anyway, we rarely mistake the bed
For a dolphin’s dick.


There isn’t much to say.
There still isn’t much to say.
It means a lot to you for me to go
Upstairs to find out when the cub is
Then to go up again either before or after the
Runs and then go
Bum meh
Shah ugshe

(Smell what happens once the fragrance of the moon prevents a traceable night

There’s nothing to be now.
The most delightful beer ad in ages.

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