men are gazing at asses from their seats as women leap from the train, men are rubbing their hands over the plastic warmed by asses as if it were as good as flesh. it's impossible not to run into someone else, men mutter. and if it were, would anyone try ( Read more... )

what am I going to do beside sweat and make awkward eyes at your wide face, what i am going to remember but sweaty nights and your shadow as you lit candles and danced in your underwear, after making out in a ditch of broken glass. i will twitch again at the sight of your smile.......

if it gets warmer i will warn you, but meanwhile we'll coast along, double riding ghosts and past miseries on our bicycle seats, dodging frozen slushies and drunkenly swerving past slow cars on dean st. i steal other people's poetry but wear my dishonesty on my sleeve where a punk patch used to be. i'll blast some black flag or big black but will ( Read more... )

if you were me you'd be down by home, you'd be home by down, you'd be my homey by now. you'd be sitting in a room with a magnificent machine. punks bald too, you'd know that if you were me. an ozzy sized cup of joe would accompany you where ever you go, it would fuel your view from the window overlooking another crumbled brooklyn street, your eyes ( Read more... )

no i can't escape what you've become, i got to pee but i ain't giving up my seat. even when i asked politely you refused to bring my relief. punch some more holes in the sheets, the papers will instruct us to know where in that infinite space our lips might saucily meet. taste my lacey waste while i whip you with a robotic arm and hammer.

and i love getting drunk. i'm thinking about calling out to him but i think i ll just get stoned instead i've been singing all day , dreaming of quitting, leaving the programs running, and running. we need to trade; my big brother is unconsciously reckless, while i work too hard at becoming unconscious. i love the tattoo, and you.

crying over piles of smashed bottles broken wire dirt on living room floor, feeling inevitable doom.
groping drunk in the dark for someone to share it with.
grasp on!
feeling relief , relief you feel right before you piss your pants.
inevitable, shameful, unrestricted relief.

faint rumblings of discontent in the continent of the esophogus. the dishes have already piled up and the roaches are living on our excess. i want sex in the morning and you want to wake up feeling loved. we freeze our misgivings along with the frost on the windows . light the christmas tree of fear and decorate with the tinsel of lust for a ( Read more... )

i'm waiting to read a sign i can't trust, i want to, like, deny your lust of that infinite whitish dust, and, i'm like, trying to pass out cuz i don't wanna fuck, officially, if you want to stockpile secrets and suck.

half-there tooth, you've been broken for years. and only now you cut pink flesh. i cry in geography. because of a tooth, a missed quiz, an inability to draw isobars.
i just want to graduate.
why did i want to graduate?
now i'll never be a real loser.