the wind bends our stems,
we bounce back to face summer
and a bee rapes us.

bob ross is a god among men.

Tangle shares his green bottle, tipping it diagnolly and pressing its lip on Reed's bare shoulder. Reed puts the sunglasses held in his hand on his sunburnt nose and grabs Tangle's bottle with a nocturnal clumsiness. pre-dawn water fills the cans perched awkwardly on the wooden fence 30 feet away. "give me the shooter, huh?" Reed says squinting, ( Read more... )

i think i'm going to say that the sky has taken on a pathetic undertone of condescendence ( Read more... )

on a road, on an orange road that is our endless life ( Read more... )

my fingers smell like vinegar cause jesus died three days ago. i have a silly goatee now. tonight i saw an old movie from 97 when i wasnt sick or inhibited and i was king. teige was my little brother then. i had short hair. i was commanding. i think i'm trying to get back there, but i'm not so sure. i think i'll cry and laugh at this one day far ( Read more... )

i think it's funny that "Your Song" was for a man and wine-in-a-box is in a bag first. i've seen through the bullshit. i know that we love snow til it snows and sun til our shirts stick to the back of those wooden chairs we keep in our backyard. i know that we love children til they want sex and love fire til it kills our mother. i know that god ( Read more... )

(our protagonist stands on the stage, looking down with desperation ( Read more... )

when i was five, my gay uncle drank wine under the umbrella with my parents who did not have french accents ( Read more... )

birth was no barred definition my mouth was dry and later pops said my lips were too big ( Read more... )