Beau Sia

THE INERTIA OF A LONELY HEART -- beau sia there is no force acting against loneliness or hearts. as least, not in the realm of physics. fortunately physics does not include love. but chemistry does. are you getting my funny metaphors now? then decipher bichromium fluoride, dickface. that wasn't a nice word to write, but i'm alone in the world and can take certain liberties. LOVE I think love is the most beautiful thing in the world, and I don't give a fuck, because I have no original ideas. I'm a pathetic man whose goal is to read poetry in order

to get women to fall in love with him, and you'd think I was reprimanding myself and revealing my horrible dark side by saying that, but I was really saying "women who hear this, fall in love with me, or else," because that's what it comes down to -an ultimatum, life or death, and sure, maybe I'm being extreme, but you walk around and tell me that things aren't extreme, jesus, I've seen a man jack off to a gap window display, so don't tell me that love isn't important. and maybe you didn't get that series of lines, that's OK, most of them are subtext designed to impress people who know too much about art, all you need to listen to is the 12 percent which contain words like "fuck," and "ass," and "ride my dongstick, you naughty schoolgirl." because in a poem about love we all need to know the relevant things, because we're all looking for the complete definition of love, if only we could open our encyclopedia brittanicas and look up love and know, but love isn't that easy. they say cupid loved my so called life and when the show was cancelled cupid cried and cried and cried and decided that he was going to fuck up all of humanity, and this is why china has a trouble with its birthrate and arkansas rhymes with date rape and iraq is iraq, and the fat lipo-sucked out of california could be its own island.

but this isn't a poem about geography, this is a poem about love, the bane of my existence, the reason why I hate valentine's day and halloween, which is about ghosts and I think you know where I'm going here. I'm going to the land of girlfriends of halloweens past, and maybe I've only got three ghosts in this land, but this doesn't mean that they don't bring their friends, who are the ghosts of girls who have rejected me, because girls rarely travel alone in this land . lydia is from this land. I used to kiss her while listening to the cure's "just like heaven," now I don't see her anymore, so that song makes me sad, why must we associate music with our love lives? I'm not trying to be profound here, I'm just saying that music really takes me back, way back, and I can't explain the memory process involved in that, because I am not a psychology major, and maybe my problem with picking up women has to do with me always asking, "what's your major?" but that only makes me as cheesy as 90 percent of guys looking for women, and 86 percent of them have women, so what's the deal here? maybe I shouldn't think of women in terms of picking them up, and maybe I should open up my sensitive side, but really, the sensitive side sucks. I've been there. you can only imagine the kinds of sweaters they make you wear. it's not fair, love is not fair, and war is not fair,

and I don't care what anyone has to say about any of that, I feel unloved, I'm sorry I need people to tell me I'm cool, I'm just that way. aren't you? am I the only one? I know that I can't be that misunderstood. but you don't want to understand me! you just want to hear the part where I talk about my small dick again, because the asian man will always be plagued by this rumor until he is brave enough to fling it out and say, "HA! WE ARE GIGANTIC!" this is not the direction I wanted to take this poem. honestly, I just want to be in the arms of my true love, in a house, in a room, in a wonderful, perfect world with our two children, a boy and a girl, helga and lamar, but maybe I shouldn't have said this, woody allen taught us that marriage is a death trap. I'm almost as old as his girlfriend. she could be the long lost sister I've been looking for, maybe my mother gave her away when we lived in china, wait, I never lived in china. I think I've begun lying in this poem. I was hoping to talk about love for 3.4 minutes and then come to a conclusion,

somehow defining love within the poem, but I don't have any answers and I'm looking for help from anyone, because love has got me fucked up and dying, because I feel retarded without anyone to hold me, and maybe that's sentimental, but what's wrong with sentimental? I just need love -to self: fuck you, I'm OK! you see, I can't even decide what I need much less understand what I'm saying. you see, all I'm saying is someone love me. the color of scarves your lyrics make it hard to hear folk songs. I am haunted by what I remember of your hugs. my hand misses the bottom of your back, where your ass begins. who breaks up with their soulmate? we are in a movie. we see the same moon from different cities. our emails are a tragedythey reveal our pride too well. I can't escape avoiding the places you disapprove of.

I'm as lost as that last line. you infect my poetry readings. no one is allowed to have a crush on me. I want to let go of you, but the problem is I already have. fantasy p you crassly keep my imagination going. in a bar your laugh shakes the sadness of why everyone's really there. I want to stop your breathing. I want you to cluck me like you would a horse. make me go the speed you want. make me the man you need. you won't change me, you'll just get love and new year's eve kissing. stop accidentally touching my thigh unless you mean it. and you don't have to tell me about other menI know you're gorgeous. my stare is more than listening. it's intention and desire.

we need to fuck the old that is creeping into our system. we need to be here now. and that's why on Saturday you will come to me. without having read this poem. maybe it'll be my man musk. maybe it'll be instinct and revelation. maybe it'll be one last shot of whiskey before we hop into a cab somewhere, but you will wake up next to me smiling. I’m So Deep I'm so deep the words of the prophet leaks from my anus I'm so deep the metaphorical public swimming pool of my mind is all deep end I'm so deep every word every word I speak is a metaphor including "and","is",and "every" I'm so deep pointing to my brain magnifies the value of my words 327 fold

I'm so deep the words "I'm so deep" aren't a hook they're a mantra I'm sooo deep I can find the corndog in the platinum rap single of your mind And when I say I'm deep like a pre-war communist, or deep like an exotic fruit spoken of loudly, or deep like the sound of one but cheek laughing, you just have to shut-up (remember the mantra words) and say "that mo-fuh's hella deep yawl!" Because I am deeper than sense. I made not knowing the answer always the answer. My silence is deep I have deep underwear and my balls get lost in them I'm so deep I'm like the iceberg that let another iceberg sink the titanic question: what does that last metaphor mean? Answer: I'm too deep to give you the clues. I'm so deep I'm like the carpenter of deep I'm so deep I have like the combined DNA of all the great "deeps" before me I'm so deep "3" is "4" I'm so deep my cock is shaped like Merlin I'm so deep that the wind.............. I'm so deep

the end of the poem is really just the beginning crush poem .3 by beau sia bjork hugs the length of my spine and i am daydreaming brunch with you. the silly combination of mimosas and confessions. i want to give you my undeveloped smiles. warning, i'm having a hard time focusing. your touch is a memory my imagination has made ever present. i'm trying to impress you with words when i should let go of guarded statement and just listen. let your glance move me how it will. let my hips react to your statements when i am home alone, pretending to talk to you in the mirror. at this point i see a painting. fill it with what you want, i have trusted you since

we sang our first song together. are you swooning yet? like i do when i'm told you might be there. my feet are so used to almost losing their balance because of you. i don't know anything about love. help me.