ringing in

it's all about maintenance
the three thousand dollar three piece said
hard drugs don't scare me
hard drugs, should be scared of me

the only downside to hard drugs
is that they age you
prematurely

his haircut belonged in a museum
next to titans page boy
and if you touched it
your follicles tickled


***

dj wet dick


***

i went to bed
wearing only my
glow stick
and dreamed of
flash light disturbs

**

he danced with
a statue owl face
took mint nips back
six by six and snarled
shayna get me a beer

he punched dj wet dick
in the wet balls
and screamed
WHY AREN'T YOU ON TWITTER
throwing his phone
led to smashing his phone
his boots stomped,
triggered a seizure
and moved on

***

is it a siezure?
no no he's just in a panic
five good stragglers pinned him
in caresses and easy breathing

a delicate boy, james has always
taken milwaukee's finest to heart.

i straddled his head
my arms like a basketball hoop
and his body not body
punched my mouth
through my tongue

my mouth filled with blood
but i kept it shut
smelling only things
redolent of rough sex

the man with a million dollar haircut
slipped a xanax into my hand
and called it baby asprin
i put it under his tongue
with deliberation reserved for
returning temple relics

dj wet dick burned
sandalwood in the kitchen
and we licked our scrapes
wiped off drool
returned to the ebb

while i couch coddled,
they slept in my queen
like babies
but none as soundly
as the head on my lap

kerrush

i am waiting

to hear

the earth rumble -


it will start

from nothing


so first,

i need


to hear


nothing

christmas dreams

i let a girl borrow my tights. they were the lace flesh colored ones that, if i wear alone, make me look like i have a flesh eating virus. there was blood filling the crotch like a horror movie. i tried to find her new clothes, along with myself. she was skinny and blonde and perfect and would have been better without a person like me lending her tights.

some guy and i were hitting it off down the street from my house. suddenly katya and rob were there. one of the guys girl friends was quizzing me about myself to see if i was good enough to know him. rob and katya were just standing there and watching. rob stepped forward after the girl was done quizzing me and said "i updated my blog and i want you to read it but i'm sad and i'm leaving now" he looked impossibly sad.

i was on my houses patio, eating a messy tuna sandwich.

the website for rob's "blog" was hard to navigate, but i eventually found a button that said "what's new with rob?" the button had a man in a lobster in a tuxedo costume, with his lobstery back facing me. the website was confusing and making me anxious, so i tried going home. i called my little brother and he was pissy and said he was at the house and i was going the wrong way. my lack of direction panic kicked in and i just started running through the neighborhood. an old man gave me directions and called me "hun". i got to the house and no one was there.

i'm done having these kind of nightmares. time to start sleeping a little bit better

shitty freewrite

the first people of
a not never new world
shimmered, copper glean
in the naked sun

the not but thought
they were new men
stood toe to toe
with the shiny always

look, said the shiny always
i know you are
going to fuck us over

our kind fingers
beaded and stitched
and roped and loved
and we feel the sunset
we are not afraid
we are not sorry

their way will die
and with it the
holy communion of
sun and man

but we put your head
on the money, honey
and the wheat stalks
looked like laurels.
so who is
the winner now?

9911 pt1

you were the girl, yes i
can see your white dress now
full of red was your mouth
and your eyes were wet and wide
swaying forth, weeping willows
and i loved you then and i
would have carried you on my back
to the end of this world if
the end of this world was
before ruin

you had no need, shiny little one
all smiles of blood and strong sinus
walking through wooden pew circles
like daddy please and blistering pree
not on knees but standing at peace

imagined letters have my mantra

hello?

so i have nothing
do do with
one way mirrors

but i know the
installers and
there's nothing
to fear

here -
i hope
my audience
knows that

i could
be talking
to air

'n pee are

i'm ready.
prepared -
occupy my
bed

to the tune of
automobile chats
that usa existence
transistor ham laboratory
new oxygen
atop sharp
north american tundra house friend

friend,
for the companionship,
thanks.

i whisper into the radio-
you have such a fucking hot body
i grab his antennas and get to work

sig(h)j

This summary is not available. Please click here to view the post.

give me

i have five minutes
to write something profound
and that's a lot
like life
y'know?

asses on edges

it's time for my first poem in this notebook.
it will be a morning poem, because it is morning.
see! so bright and frresh! i can almost smell mint!

i wake up with bob dylan in my body and my legs spread wide.
permissive starfishing. independent seduction.
when my wheels turn i think of my stockings.
they are old old, seamed in the back, a perfect tan.

i put them on with great intent
after you rub lotion on my feet and legs

i wear my dress that looks like a hospital gown
and my prozac bathrobe and it's your birthday
and you ask to eat me out in my living room
and i say that's fine, sure

i'm fresh and wet and smooth and need feel
i am hungry you are hungry
heads are leaned back, asses are on edges
these moments are mine and in them i am less broken

jesus fuck

a god damn martyr
saving somervillian panic
from boys exercising only that

i dress them in bathrobes
shuffle them through hallways
they are half drunk and half asleep
arms hanging/limp and saved

i convince them of almost truths
involving sacks of shit
and flush toilets like peter denies christ
(three times, blood and cock)

they sleep like angels
i rest like my mother

v no vino

sweet black head
is too full darling
bird bones crush
so easy hollow
the felted hush

d vul

she pointed to the devil card and asked
whose robert? i'm glad he's gone
why is he so sad? does he do drugs?

i say he should and she reads them/me
we all care about someone too much in this life
it happens once. it won't happen again.

mundane hate

the last time that

panic hit this bad

i squeezed my eyes

until my face sprayed

angry little red freckles

capillaries liberated

and yes it was squeamish

to see but also cute

like instead of sun kissed

- life and times bent down to

smack me a wet one

and the last time

i drank so at druids

i wrote horrible great poems

and laughed and screamed on

a two wheel motor

playing in the rain until i was

face down, wet roaded

but today

a tiny puffy eye

and sloppy trivia games

leave me feeling

unexceptional

mundanely dramatic

and needing more

well that's nice

a darling birthday

of squeezed oranges

pomegranate spray

floating sunflowers

is altogether wholesome

but your present

is what you give

to me instead

on my side

and we'd be excused

but there are no

sorries

here

oh god

how sweet to see

they are wanted

pleased teeth

graze heels

like cattle

and tongues

part toes

like they

still give

prizes

in life boxes

AY. CHINASKI.

HEY BUKS

YOU JUST REMIND ME

OF EVERY ASSHOLE

AND I LIKE YOU

BUT I'M LEAVING

YOUR STOMPING GROUNDS

always goanna feel

the oldest I’ve ever been

the mother goose graves

had em all aged around

twenty four