Let’s be honest here,It’s more like crawling back into a warm blanket,Than anything else. It’s not so much that it’s easy,You’re a complicated sort of thing, you are,You’ve got constellations for finger-tips, the breadth of you is vast,You contain multitudes, as conflicted Whitman put it. It’s not so much that it’s comfortable,You’ve got heavy grinding …
Continue reading “Not really a love poem; I just really like blankets.”
If you ever love me,and you write poems– if you compare me to things I can never be, Bradbury did something with a weathervein,that echoed Shakespeare’s witches,“Something wicked this way comes.” I’ve been far too many failed expectations,and I’d think you’d understand the feeling,what with us all being:fat,lazy,useless,uncaring,selfish,ungrateful,assholes. We’ve been left a shit world here,but …
Let’s sext in the rain,how about it? I know it ain’t,I know, I know,I know it ain’t the same, But I get off on the idea of you gettin’ off to my words, Fight of flight, fight or flight, I want the damn kinetics of you, I want your fist across my face, I …
Let’s not beat around the issue here,I’ve got sex on the mind. But I ain’t ever been too fond of fuckin’ for fuckin’s sake,sure I want to grab your wrists, ‘n hold you down,sure I want to know the taste of your skin,for you ‘n I to leave bruises we have to hide or blush …
Continue reading “If I wrote a poem about you, would you love me for the night?”
As an atheist,If find it mighty funny how often I think of Moses. And I ain’t talkin’ like“Moses supposes his toes are roses”, More like,As this great force of nature,Climbing out of the grain of forests,Rough-hewn from chunks of granite,Leathered over with a hide tanned by labor and vice.Smile lines, deep-dug canyons splintering out from …
It’s been years since my hands’ve been this soft,makes the contrast between the skin ‘n the scars easier to read. Don’t have much in the way of knuckle scarrin’,angry as I get, ain’t ever been much of a fighter,not sure where I get ’em,but they coat the outside of my hands,‘n remind me how much …
I knew a guy,he called ‘em “fist-i-cuffs”,walkin’ around shadow-boxin’ dynamite.It’s a special kind of someone,that walks to an edge,and tries to fight it. Hell, what do I know about fights anyway,the one I was in, kid gave me a black eye,and a bunch of older kids held him down so I could punch back–I walked …
The greatest aspiration a tuft of dandelions can crave(Other than the complete and utter destruction of all smog producing industries [and paper companies {and anyone involved in deforestation}])is to be planted conveniently close to a keyboard. Everyone knows dandelions are inherently poetic.Otherwise they wouldn’t be the favorite flower of that six foot tall woman I …
No, no, no, it’s okay man,Times have changed,Now-a-days, you strap that cross to the back of a mini van,‘n the fourteen stations are made up of franchise stops,Plaster over “INRI” with adverts,It ain’t like it was,These days, it’s all paparazzi ‘n tiaras,Those days of thorns and stonings, they’re long over. We’ve gone an removed the …
i’m about ten steps too far down this fucked up road,and i feel like i do a hell of a job keepin’ that under wraps. “and what the hell would it be like to forget?” ever been on a drinkin’ binge?you ever been hung over so much it starts to feel routine?you ever get …
Continue reading “clean the kitchen, you don’t do much anyhow.”
