Monday, September 21, 2015

5 Poems





NOTHING BUT THE END INSIDE OF ME

I grow Mom's erection to flatten lost paradises
On t-shirts on dead fingers on their lunch breaks.
For miles are goat mailboxes stuffed with recipes
Always hot blue tarps mix with mermaid spermicide.

Dad's boiled saliva smells my easy lifetime.
Earlier, it wore Autumn Sonata as fresh underwear
While sailing the rotting sunflower sea
Toward Trakl's black mouthed yellowing olive tree.

A thousand videos of cobwebs punched in their stomachs
Is everywhere I've been and nowhere I've gone.
I look outside garbage bags five times a day.
Nothing but the end inside of me counts every beautiful thing I see.


FERTILE AND BARREN

Pasta in limbo.
Laundry in limbo.
I have no income.

A washcloth walks faster
Than ample blank flowers.
I feel insane when I get into bed.

Digested shrimp age calmly.
They pick a postcard from my guts.
Shrimp recount their remains to shrimp pussy faraway.

An erased mouse has chapped lips.
I live like it lives.
I used to be more friendly.


MOMMY GUILT

The two windows on my wall
Bleed the best sauce,
Bleed people at their regular table.
People are basically snippets
Of the stuffed donut-thing they’re searching for.

Race riots emit the odor light poles love.
Kissing light poles is getting weirder.
Emails talking to me tomorrow
Simply want more time outside.
My days have too many hours in them.


TAKING A SHOWER WITH MY REMOTE 

The cum on his neck is art.
My cum on him is the average I thirst for.

Happiness comes, depression comes.
All the buzz on dolls that are Wi-Fi enabled hums. 

I've run out of cum.
God replaces it with teams of mustard and ketchup. 

Gandhi swallows a gallon, Mandela swallows a tub.
Writing shit about cum for the rich is not art.


TV PREVIEW

This September, a super-soldier fucks Confucius.
This October, celery smiles like shitting sprees arrested for shoplifting.

3 counts of attempted shellfish iffiness
Develop a case of breastfeeding anorexic tadpoles.

In the style of stab wound epilepsy,
A shadow's shitting spree was another of the twin towers 
Evaporated when a young white girl made the show more sellable. 

A tan of bladder-like eyeballs on Confucius
Suffocates the allotted croaking of frogs.

In October, the super soldier's dad fucks bulimic shotguns.
In November, French fries and defined arms are pregnant.



Friday, September 4, 2015

AFTER THE SHOPS CLOSE




AFTER THE SHOPS CLOSE

My uncle vomits dog food,
Thanks God it’s not pancreatic cancer.
He passes his mundacity onto fields of tooth reruns.
He passes me getting up early to make the commute better.
I’m thinking about the soap that’ll make me die.

After the shops open, I’m on my way to visit Kafka’s grave
And stop to watch a Hare Krishna parade.
While there I meet a French girl.
During lunch, she jerks me off.
Fireflies pour out of her eyes so I know how soon I’ll be in the dark.

Four decades later, Kafka’s on his way to visit my grave.
While there he stews about being a child star who became an ugly adult.
He opts his clean socks for a bird cooking in its beak.
A lake on that bird is drowning a mole in the morning.

Just last night she was in love with the dirt’s ass. 


https://youtu.be/BNHNxaBCKVc

Friday, August 28, 2015

I BELIEVE IN THE VIOLENT WAY




I BELIEVE IN THE VIOLENT WAY

I receive the stupendous triumph of bouncing cemeteries.
Those done before me
Inhabiting flies thick on balloon animals.

Before me are
Monotonously sitting crowns of saliva with hot coals for knees.

On a main street littering the bushes,
I believe in what carries me far from land.
Harsh and childless.

Tuesday, August 25, 2015

Saturday, August 15, 2015

Saturday, July 25, 2015

NOSES NAILED TO FEET







MY SENSES STILL WORKING/ HEATHER IS BLUE/ THE PLACE THAT IS NOW IS WITHOUT ENDING/ ANOTHER HEATHER IS BLUE



https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PCDjSahan2Q








Saturday, July 4, 2015

PURPLE BINS FROM A SUN OF MACHETES



Drag their clear manes across what's not so clear.


Bookmark all the shadows I do.


In my new clothes and ignoring death


I bend over a hill in the early owl finger.


A huge swarm of creatures at risk of their headphones on


Keep playing the games then are done.


My skin falls off those that come next.


Dark fish lush.


My boss is soiled panties.


Fruits and vegetables in love with what I've never tried.