What should a person

want?? What should a person

want??What should a person
want??What should a person
want??
What should a
person want??
What should a
person want??

What should a
person want??

Unpublished Poems from

2012 -/- 2015
2015
Unpublished Poems from 2012 -/- 2015
Unpublished Poems from
2012 -/- 2015
Poems from 2012 -/- 2015
Unpublished Poems from 2012 -/- 2015

Unpublished Poems from 2012 -/-

Unpublished

Silence Rules the Landscape

Deaths arbor is hot and desolate and
silence rules the landscape.
Its lava flows have turnt its beach
sands into dread stalagmites.
Shards of glass who - that is to say
their edge - is as hot and desolate as death and
theres no reversing its direction once it
sinks into you, quick as it is.
Death raps upon our plantation setting
windowpane to set its foundations a-tremor
and Ill count out between sharp - that is
to say - frightened consecutive inhales
a million and a million years before this
beach is returned to black sand as all
stalagmites crumble into, and finally I
can be a young, fresh, connected,
pleasureseeker.

Song to Sing in the Shower:

Song to sing in the shower:
I wish I was Notorious sung to the tune of I Wish I was in New Orleans
Because I wish for you during my most secret ankle rubs eventho
only notoriety can please me
The shower gel foam around my wrists are like some weighted sleeve
tho they may be just bubbles or something, perhaps
I wish for some ascended singing
to carry from one shower to the next across
the trembling bridge of night
Each shower is the underline to a restless night
Ctrl + U
Control you
These are what showers are best for
These inane syllogisms

Ancient Seven Threaded Thoughts Tea

Ancient seven threaded thoughts tea
that missile in the dark - that thistle milk,
so to speak, that creased-beyond-belief
ancient paper that held the form of
twice as many cranes, perhaps
except now in the form of tea.
Such are my thoughts on the subject.
as hopped as verse or beer is,
such are its properties oh so
manifold yet stern as the prisoners
breakfast.
As fragrant and fragile as a yet
unbroached dispute that leads, ultimately
to mutual understanding and some
gradually heavensward tilting disposition, this
I see in it also.
Its shit hot is what Im saying.

Who Will Save You From Fatherhood

Who will save you from fatherhood
and how will you sustain a level of self-love
despite your next irrational choice-making
disaster scenario.
I watch the news and feel that necessary
fatherly unproud that no toil is
good enough.
The world my ineffectual bastard child
that bears my irresistible need to humiliate
to measure and find it wanting every time.
How will my self interest crystalise into
fatherhood and who will spur my most
irrational decisions.
Who will temporarily carry my grossest
indiscretion from seed bearing age to seed
ejecting age. What doctor can tell me where exactly
i am along this timeline, and where to next?
what nasty text to send to *number withheld*.
Like Eminem at the end of 8 Mile I am impervious to criticism
because I got to it before you did.

Even Light Has Its Own Life Now

Even light has its own life now and dims
and brightens independent of your own
hand on the switch or soft twist of the dial
even your laptop display as crystal as it is.

Real Nigga Compression Artifacts

i've built a secret rocket
fueled by every perverse dream
i've had as a boy. it will carry me out of orbit
where i will be safe and stranded.
unfettered by the gravity of petite economics.
lust is trivial in space. space is sweet.
lust is inert in space. inertia is my last friend.
i'm flying through an extremely high res pic of
the andromeda galaxy. a blood clot in time.
an unending anti-clockwise flush down
the mouth of dead stellar bodies
bandied by havok physics
theres a singular perverse slit in
the centre of the universe where
laws mean dick and time is frayed
at the ends. black lives antimatter,
shred my body over and over
like pulled jackfruit across the canopy
of inexistence.

Compersion
I like the idea that someone
is fucking tonight
because of me.
from my room w/ my laptop I can
confirm that the 2012 is
happening
you seem worried and I type
'I feel u'. I am feeling u over a
great, cold distance thanks to
gchat I can feel the rhythm of yr
chest
moving up and down as you
breath as
translated thru the rhythm with
which you
type to me
confirm for me via gchat that
u are feeling
me feeling u
need someone to fuck with me
tonight I need some medicinal
grade
weed and surrounded by people
to tell me
I fucks with that, I fucks with you,
if u
are real then we can fuck, you can
fuck with me. dead pixels in my
laptop
display glow red. they seem so
heavy
like when you press yr fingers
in between
my ribs makes my whole body
slacken and
I am swimming under a sea of
such good
pressure.
sexting over gchat is a form of
telepathy that works
only over the Internet
I am blushing when u read me.
I think irl girls can read my mind
easily
I see your words reoccurring in irl

girls
so maybe I can read their minds
too
I'm happy, with our palms
squeezed together
and my lips over the lips of
someone else
dry ass, chapped ass lips
traveling across the neck
of someone that looks just like our
gchat history
somehow I type 'I feel u' over
gchat, I like the idea that you
are fucking tonight because of me
and of course
I feel u. guess what, they're
playing r kelly in the
other room and I'm still clothed
but I could be naked if u want me to, in front of
all
these dead pixels its so easy it
should be
negative effort.

Bonheur
the French word for happiness
sounds like boner, and it's true
it's hard to disguise how happy I
am when you're with me.
I am a boy taking a nap from work
in shaded fields of wheat when
you sleep next to me.
in a house with high windows
we could overlook everything
that we are at the centre of.
I am at the centre of you
a place I'd always dreamed of being
I think nowadays more than ever
it is uncommonly hard
to find the good in things
without the practice you allow me
In your hands I am grit that
turns into clay, the warm doughy mess of it
I am stretched between two fingers
at the thought of you
in a house with the high windows open
we let in the heady aniseed breath of nighttime
on the bedroom. not caring about
when to fall asleep.

Pop That
Tall glass of diet cola tinted like Barack.
Can't tell if you're faking being
speechless for the comedy value of it
when I say yes black people get tan
in the summer. Yes there is clay in
the bed of this river and supposedly
that's where I'm from.
There's something weak about
the way our high fives have been
connecting lately like when we meet
outside the place that labels it's
cafe au lait 'the Barack Obama'.
Koffie verkeerd the wrong kind
of coffee.
Bar experience tinted by Barack.
Unpredicted solar eclipse in the sky
tinted like Barack.
Eyelids droopy. cars tinted like Barack
If I ask you to call me a cab
The evening tinted like Barack listening to Jeff Buckley
Last Goodbye. Half alive on the unsubtle
magic of of the nanny state with flannel shirts
tied around our arm for tourniquets.

Lamia next door

please forgive me but
when it comes to dark nipples against
light skin I am a boy, again
restless as I am, quiet as Ive kept myself
anxious at the thought of receiving you
hot and wax-washed, in the palms of my hands
with a sense of wonderment I hope I
can still pass off as charming or
with your arms up and above your head
like you're stretching. from here
I am in the unique position
I am indebted to you in a unique way
lights from the traffic outside move
from wall to wall before disappearing,
the next light, and the next light,
and so on
muted as my gestures may be,
please believe that I
have intended all my love for you

Yeast + Flour + Water 4ever

qt 20something broad gets on the bus and sneezes 3 times quickly
keut alt couple walks by, guy says 2 girl: 'Don't u just love random cock'
Mind feels like a bowl of saag paneer
Im In the kitchen reading Michael Chabon and making Bagels
Watching a donut shaped thing of dough floating on boiling water is a miraculous and
humbling experience.
Tiger balm > tiger blood ( and it lasts longer )
Nothing says 'you are now enveloped in the warm bosom of the middle class' like
Gorgonzola.
Hot 30something hops on the bus just in time as the driver holds door, she pronounces
huskily: 'I'll mention that for you at the pearly gates'.
I was preoccupied for a full 5 minutes by how sexy that sounded before I realised that was
also hella sinister.
Could use some more 'in your face 3D visuals' before my affect is completely blunted.
Watching Yeast + Flour + Water bubbling to life in a smelly tupperware container
is so frighteningly real. It happens. It's living and it's not living whether you are
looking or not.
While watching Yeast + Flour + Water creating harsh smells in a tupperware container
Thought 'this is absurd' while feeling detached, which calmed me till i thought 'this is less
absurd'.
Chill bro 1: What r u doing?
Chill bro 2: Chilling
Chillbro 2: Chilling underneath the pine
Chillbro 2: Eating a vag-like fruit
Chillbro 2: *eats a fruit that resembles a vagina*
Thought I heard that classic fb chat sound?
I felt neutral.
In the spectrum between Neutral and unbuzzworthy
No one is going to receive your fucking [end product] is what I think
Carefully observing a boiling ring of Yeast + Flour + Water
'I want to live inside of Parks & Rec'.
That's from the @white_laurens tweet drafts.
You guys! I woke up without my bowl today!
You guys! When is the next supermoon?
You guys! I need to know when is the next supermoon.
Looking at a smelly tupperware box filled with Yeast + Flour + Water
I thought 'I want to fuck under the next supermoon'
You guys When is the next supermoon.... Seriously.

I Feel 'Emptied' Rather Than Actually Empty

here is a question. would you rather take a writer's retreat to the countryside or to the city?
actually fuck it. fuck ever going to ruraltown usa
hill people can track you by the scent of your discarded flip-flops
trust me these guys have zero reason to bother you other than 'rural folk are innately evil
and don't understand the consequences of their actions'.
while we're out here I invented a game we can play with this wrinkling stack of discarded
magazines
It's called 'Funny Glasses Pictures' - put strange or goofy glasses on celebrities or
politicians. Feel free to design new unusual models of glasses.
Switched seats on a flight so a woman could sit w/ her husband. That's the type of thing you
do on RECORD STORE DAY.
When drunk girls r around me they immediately start acting like they are sober.
I just downloaded a typeface called 'Ass Manager'
That just the kind of person I am can you respect me for that?
Try this: as I read out the rest of this poem please pretend I am Lena Dunham except fully
clothed
Let's face it. Girls think I watch Girls the series because of a hidden "sensitive" side, but
really: I love Soulfly.
When I read this poem please pretend I just walked onto a stage to the song 'Prophecy' by
Soulfly.
I just got onto the stage doing a scissor kick. I'm a living ass breathing ass human and I need
a breakdown. I've got the punk ass trivia to pepper your indie ass film with. Fuck with me.
Rich lil hipster brats walking around ikea like they can buy any futon they please. NO
IM SO DONE WITH THIS. i wish you luck in not hating your parents for mixing up such an
unthinkable human being.
i made a butter pecan smoothy with caramel and the pecans get stuck in ma throat haha
Now before I end this poem let me just remind you
Hitler was born on 4/20.

The rich coast

I could be toasting in the sun
rolling in golden light
if not shaded by these canopies.
From the floor of this jungle upwards
I witness these rolling leaves
spiderweb silk connecting arbor
to arbor. If you look closely you
can see gold pennies glistening
in the river named after a saint or
a virgin.
My hair becomes knotted in the mud
on the banks of river we can only guess the name
of. Beyond saints and virgins. There's gold
in my nappy hair. I love you like the
stones that turn gold in the bed of this
river. Find me in the sediment turning
the water to brown like diet cola.
Could even gold rust if you leave me
here long enough?

Settlements
Im sure my heart can't take the strain.
My heart only moments away from heat stroke when
thinking of how I found you like a fountain
in the desert.
Fumbling to undress you
my fingers are apprehensive like when
picking the fruit from a cactus.
We've been drinking wine each night and I've been
growing more and more ineloquent with you Sabra
until I am nothing more than hissing and peeping.
Love is the greatest speech impediment.
Kissing you I feel the time speed up the way it does
in dreams when sleeping in sandy trenches among
dunes and dunes. I hope beyond all better judgement that this will be the dream it takes me
years to wake from.
Treading the same territory, over a changing landscape that can only be seen changing
from
a dream vantage. The collective cells that form
my body are equivalent to semen boiling in the desert
Sabra I saw you with your knife at the ready, we're
sharing the same bottle and my heart is incapable of the strain seeing the lens flare of the
horizon as day
turns to evening. Its like seeing lens flare all day.
You are sedate under rocket fire
and accustomed to breathing acrid smoke. It is a myth, you tell me, what I read - that god will
only burden you with a load you can carry.
From the top of this settlement
from the highest point on a palm tree, time speeds up like a horse with desert hooves, time
is strange like a horse with gold teeth. Beat the direction into me
like a horse with golden reins. Under siege from
every direction and I don't know what direction to miss you in.
Your reflection in a slow simmering oasis is rapidly disappearing and I can no longer taste
the difference between sand in my mouth and long bitter tahini.
At night I am naked above thick sheets. You are scrubbing my back clean with prickly pear. I
feel like
ive been circumcised by an angel. A being with an asymmetrical amount of wings in
the double digits, far too many eyes, and a hundred beating hearts that mock this
ticking thing in my chest.
Even the music we fuck to is harsh.
Either that or the chorus of goats bleating in anticipation of another sand whip, winging from
the peak of a dune we had only finished naming yesterday. Each night is more quiet as we
fall asleep.
This morning I heard the beat from
an opening to a Taylor Swift song,
a frantic signal from the heart of the settlement
that went ignored. You havent heard the coast like this in a long time.
There are whales moving under the desert. Things that can swallow a settlement whole

keeping us alive inside. Its intestines are like cities.

These days After Drinking

These days after drinking the night
before, I feel sunburnt rather than
hungover. Speaking to you I feel
like my voice is being fed through
a small microphone in the palm of my hand.
Typing symptoms into webMD all evening
I have discovered that, yes, wanting you
is the loneliest symptom.
I can see the wetness on your lips
licking rizlas from across a room.
From across a country I can feel the weight of all that you are
giving up for lent.
I am a synapse that's probably
gonna fire again.

Anklesock Heaven
In my bedroom when you are
pulling on your socks I can see
the outline of your toes and
I'm in heaven
More frequently than not I find myself
out of breath when I come, with
my head tucked between your collar
bones you are the most splendid origami
I could never unfold. I am acutely aware of
your skeletal structure, the way your ankles
feel against the most latex wrapped part of me.
Carrying you on my back from room to room
because the floor is sticky from last night's
wine, I am acutely aware that your breasts are against my back
your neck is in my neck
your skeleton
is on top of mine.
And your anklesocks sticking out in front
of me, wrapping around my middle
I'm hard pressed to think of any
place I'd rather be.
Don't you hate it tho when
you soak all the way thru your socks
when you're testing the water with your feet
and find that through a thick layer of callus
you can't feel anything? Please just simply
lay your heels gently in my open palms
and I can tilt my head at the angle you recognize
as me being sensitive, satiated, seeing you from
your ankles upwards thru a gauzy lens.

Montserrat
When I die bury me under Montserrat.
Let me be an exclusion zone unto my
own damn self. Let the gold in my
marrow course through her volcanic
veins and preserve the rest of me in
the pocket of the toxic plume from which
she was born, that fateful crack in the
continental shelf that will swallow me
once more. Let it digest me like a tamarind
sweetened stew until I too can sweep over
a country turning trees into coal briquets
casting a shade over single runway airports
at ominous times of day.
I am a leaf that only trembles for you
swept up and carried along a diet cola brown river
you have never seen a finer mountain erupt
and take all with it.
The loaded revolver of the lesser antilles
dont let the Soca carry you away.
Respect your bodies, were almost melting
press another lime wedge into my beer bottle
Im ready

I Love You Bergamot

I love you Bergamot, I love you
smelly tea and zesty lemon.
Steam gets in my eyes and i love it.
Without you Id be on the floor crying
on the telly theres a sensational
documentary about vending machines
and the angry folk that tip them over
do you know how heavy those things are?
People get crushed to death by these things
and for what? a twix?
sugar is the other white killer.
be calm, I need you to change your mind
i love you, have a tea.

Outercourse, Our Course

I look at the pill in its little
gelatinous encasement
motion plus intent is
the science behind our new Motion+ Accessory
God Level+ accessory statement, the type
of jewellery that you swallow.
What is motion without intent?
A combination of sense movement and
sense memory creates an extrapolation of
the next move you might make but I
could be so wrong.
Me and my crew are so hype to get to know u.
So sick with the anticipation
its so lit, that ass, that taste.
That seamless interplay of motion and vibe.
I feel like I can end a world today
if not this one.
What is taste without memory?
Am I untrue to my Netflix rating?
I need to be sure. Ima open a floodgate
of some sort.
So sick upper echelon feel echoes whenever I
scroll past your name in a timeline or another.
My heart is wrapped in the tightest nichrome coil
and Im terrified.
As surely as white people love Groot
some gold tinted code floods my screen
and errors started compiling up inside me
and I feel apart.

That Fucking Bomb

dear allah, please send ebola straight to my dick head
guide me up a stepladder thru a latch that opens Into
a garden of mangled dick parts
finally my transformation into
a blood harpy is complete. talons, striped
knee high socks and that insatiable urge to
non-stop dick tearing up fest
blood harpy for life
let me be true to this new me.
fuck everything I was before and fuck
everything that comes after
i am the alpha and omega of
fuck this dreadful predicament in time called
earth in 2014.
has someone invented the bullet that will
turn my flesh inside out yet?
is this the big one?
has someone dropped that fucking bomb?
am i moulting my blood harpy feathers
of my own accord?
i make my nest among the nettles in a tree hung
with torn up dick parts
like an xmas and a bris party got crashed
by uncaring blood harpies too callous to even
rsvp on facebook.
ive considered whether the adage
about the sausage factory may apply here
surely an appetite has been changed somehow
prayer cannot soothe this world
blood harpy out.

Received an Email from Channel 4

Received an email from Channel 4 that seemed to
demand I finish watching Utopia in a stern tone
like I will not get my dessert if I
dont finish my dinner.
My momma aint raised no ho
but I can feel the blood of a ho inside me
and its warmer than the rest of my blood at night.
It hots up under that one stray bolt of moonlight
you already know which.
It comforts me at 3am when the sounds of the occult
drag me out of bed
and that satanic murmuring takes on
the intonation of an Obama speech.
I want that ho blood transfusion.
Let me suck it out the bag if I have to,
I have teeth dont I?
Gut punch me in my sleep and
yank my t-shirt up over my head and
aim a knuckle flurry at my kidney
until I piss blood in my white skinny jeans.
My momma aint raised no ho
that was all me.
I will remember every bed in
every trap house I have ever slept in.
Everywhere I sleep turns into a trap house eventually.
A trap room at least
a trap door at least
fuck me off my delicate balance
fuck me back into the corner where I belong
fuck me till my compass needle drifts
off north to something else entirely.
Fuck the ho blood back into me.

Nicki Nicki Nicki

Nicki Nicki Nicki
my eternal kidney stone
Love me up against the moss grown side of a tree
you are so articulate
and I am in my drunk before noon dream
I tell her to look back at it
look, its the new me that slurs his words
I tell her to look back at it but
A bad bitch doesnt need to be told
I love you like the aforementioned fat kid
loves cake
Licking 9v batteries, they call me
new strange and alive.
Never mind these data pests
Embedding land masses within land masses
Your ass is some sort of real estate
We build and build and build
and I forgot how the rhyme actually goes but
I know there is a secret pew for me
in that secret row between rows
You never need to be unsure of me
A man once built a house on sand and
it got washed away by the sea
A man once built a house upon your ass
and now its the realest estate
A man has, but not me
And as long as I dwell in the house of the lord
I will not gulp for air as I drown in the pussy

When You Are Drunk You Are The Corpse of a Drunk

Person Tilting and Swaying
When you are drunk you are the corpse of a drunk
person tilting and swaying.
stacked awkwardly against a breeze, in a shellsuit of apathy.
Please listen, ima unending stress trigger.
A ceaselessly twitching eyelid for 26 years.
Lil uzi clip loosed into the air out of boredom.
a bae so understated. a towering fixation on
bae so understated.
miracle bae, my every sweat and tremor. no asshole or
betrayer could know you like i did.
No one had to struggle like I did to earn
the right to bae arms around me.
I'm better than u, don't u ever forget. Don't get comfortable.
Don't feel relieved.
I'm bout to crush u u fucking baby.
Bitch I might be in a coma and I like it.
Bitch I dread sleep I need something lesser than that.
See how the drops fall from my dick into the toilet bowl.
It's so serene out here it's nature out here,
I must be punished for this is how I
chose to apply my brand
Lets smash against each other at high speeds
captured in slow motion like eggs on youtube
Fuck me against the door of room 213
atop a hexagonal carpet pattern and so much more
a turning and a continuity error, it opens
it closes and so much more
Fuck me out of a place where peace
and joy are possible/achievable
they mobilised peace against us
and now cops go to sleep whispering your name
a transient curse, a transitive state
a dissolution and a forfeit

Your Settings May Have Changed But You Havent

Your settings may have changed but you havent
You follow each other but at what cost
Twitter finds a way to strip the walls and let thru
an intercourse of many nations
A river of inane conversation feeds into me
like many deltas feed from a river
An embossed 3d lensflare outerglow
surrounds me like a halo would
my face seems so lit, for such a tiny screen
My feed is like some impenetrable batscape
chittering, that unbearable din of the everyday
Terror is an oversized vapor cloud I've just exhaled.
an overturned plate of bloomin onion.
So small the screwdrivers that have screwed us into place.
Tiny rivets in the distressed selvedge denim of the hegemony.
Each iphone is a closed system, each bevel clipped and smoothed
Each sentiment hashtagged, each contract offers 300 minutes of
uninterrupted living.
A kingly shade tracing the cosmologies of strife, chasing
irresistible messes
Contending with teen ESPers
Somewhere an oil barrel is rolling down a hill. Somewhere a priest sighs. Somewhere a
friend is taking a truveda to the neck.
I love you all deeply.
Somewhere a landmine is falling asleep for the first time.
Somewhere an algae is being ripped up by a parrotfish. Somewhere a fungus will kill a
thousand people.
I love you all uncompromisingly.

The Long Blondes

The Long Blondes, don't u remember?
Those long cursive letters on your stomach?
Those long reflections warped in the
rained-on cobblestone?
The cocktail waitress with the sharp wrist bones?
Blowing smoke rings in a beer garden like everything
Is okay?
I've never seen street lights so dim as on the street of
your hotel.
On top of high thread count sheets your spit is like maple syrup to me.
I need these tiny bottles of vodka so I can send tiny
Messages to you across a filled bathtubs worth of ocean
between our leg. Across several channels.
The water kind, not the pay per view on your tv.
Not the 10 euro porn channel at 3 am.
Not lay, lady, lay playing from your tiny iPod speakers

Wish I Cud Love Computers

wish i cud love computers instead of the last day of December causing all music
is that a fully orchestrated version of the Aeroplane flies high?
Yeast + Flour + Water is p awesome I guess.
This was probably 'hungry'.
I want to tempt fate but I think about words.
I want to tempt fate but not as human being
what the fuck has inspired me
KEEP YR FUCKIN SKA OFF MAH FUCKIN SKA OFF MAH FUCKIN EARTH
chill is overtaking it
they can adjust the fiction of it.
i like how your hat reminds me
I Would rather have 'no fear'
There will be bloggable content there will be people rapping over Merzbow
Want u 2 integrate a mountain lion point blank in the sewers?
that sounds like hella high-end stereos.
Mysterious lump discovered on my house my house
I generated some content about this.
HONOR...RESPECT...MUSIC..EMOTIONS.....BASED.... LETS GET our Estrogen on the
world
that doesn't care abt my ebook 'Wedding of a Pabst BLUE RIBBON!
I mean that in a poem of yours that is art.
Constantly hydrated with light generating vodka and gatorade
they can adjust the fiction of it
Well, I cud love THIS
Hung over as he has
'Entered the Void'
streaming discontent loading anguish
a sweet ballad of lust and want u
Draw on me darkness
draw from deep within my anguished empty stomach
Falling at a speed that seems like a mistake
I could spend a hundred years as a bastard
hungry and unadorned deep and
bastard in a hostile way
Some special portent has warned you
all against me
Well, I cud love THIS but I won't

I'm in heaven with the dog kisses

My friends I am now in heaven
I'm in heaven with the dog kisses
A pile of feathers along the newly pounded roadside.
With as many dogs as there are roots in the dirt
Its a blessing to finally want peace after
being told that i should want anything else
I want dog kiss after dog kiss and I want peace
Roll me off a slope and see my angry face change
and turn peaceful. truthfully i am still and the earth is rolling beneath me.
At the bottom of the hill there is long high street stretched before me
Watch a deep carmine settle into my face. I feel embarrassed being
dog kissed in public but I certainly dress like I'm asking for it.
I'm running through the arcade with the high glass ceiling.
I feel like a tree in the middle of a shopping centre. Each leaf
is tied to my branches by invisible strings and in the autumn
I will unspool over thousands of miles.
This wine tastes like ass but
I'm still drinking it
I'm eating rocket leaves straight from the bag.
Fitting, it seems to me. Daydreaming
abt taking a dog to church and u
can watch me kiss it. My dear friends
I'm in dog kiss heaven. I'm finally
here and all I want is peace. I'm declaring today the
2nd of November 'take a dog to church day'. The fool says
in his heart 'there are no dog kisses. There is no dog'.
It is easier to tie a thousand leaves to a tree than it is for the fool to enter dog kiss heaven.
I feel like a glacier slowly melting near an equatorial beach.
The tines of the sun pressing deep into my frost skin.
Finally ashore they take a knife to me and make shaved ice treats.
Dogs are licking the flakes from around the children's feet.
Coloured syrup stains the sand in red and green. Let me die peacefully so I can be in dog
kiss heaven where there is ever a wet dog nose against my cheek.

Lately I Have Been Feeling Some Type of Way While Looking At Your Twitter Feed
lately i have been feeling some
type of way while looking
at your twitter feed. I'm not afraid to share,
that's what the internet is for.
my fingernails grow heavy when I type to you.
often they hit the keys before my fingers do and
it makes me type the dumbest shit. once they simply
shot thru my keyboard and I knew I was lost then.
i don't think I have to be part of anything
when I see you, let alone part of my
own body which you could bring to move
with my will or without it.

On My Twitter
on my twitter you are my favorite you
i'm looking thru the picture of
an open window on
Instagram, a breeze blows back
the curtains and I feel like we could be
breathing the same kind of air
if we tried
moments of instant forgiveness
remind me of u, like there is no
fuck up too great for me to turn
my back on and just keep driving thru
running on the fumes from
this empty tank, this hormonal
low tide, is all quiescent. on twitter where I could just ebb away.
near real windows I experience
a caustic winter breeze, a tight whip, as a
distinct lack of you
I could try to define negatively as
the opposite of when my legs
interlock w/ yours and we form a
matching set. a unique configuration for a limited time only.
this was my favorite tweet.

20 Years or More
anyone who has taken 20+ years
to reach the beliefs he or she holds
now should be respected, totally.
it took you 20+ years to arrive at
the beliefs compatible with you approaching
and speaking to me. I'm sorry to say I have to
redirect you, and it might take 20+ more years
for me to realise I should have respected that
but right now I really can't.