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Showing posts from May, 2013

That Girl is in a Bonfire

Save her. Please. She's been begging you to do something. She hasn't said anything but she wants you to do it. Please take her home with you. She's lonely.

You tried but, oh as it turns out,she decided you weren't her type. So she sprawled out in her casual self-destruction, drinking in the heat from her shame, indulging in exhaustion.

In search of an answer to a rhetorical question that caresses the collective social conscience. She thinks everybody else is in on the joke; stubborn, she insists it isn't funny.

With her eyes closed? A fool to all without a fool of her own.

Black Truth

Rapunzel with an awful haircut,

spitting on The Prince.

Charming, but Cinderella isn't dressed;

Worried that her One True Love

will find deception before her slipper.



Bold and hollow myths,

Real to the mouths

that speak them

without hesitation.


YOOOLLLOOO

I woke up with cookie crumbs pressed into my back.

I didn't bother wiping them off.

I just checked my phone,

cringed,

rolled over

and licked my lips.

Jonas Wanted to Be Good

Jonas wanted to be good. His bed made a home of crumbs and ash, mistakes staining the cloth.  His past made a home of his bed. Jonas couldn't help himself. Jonas wanted to be good but he wasn't ready to be free.  Jonas bled regrets. The gauze of chemicals saved his wrists. Jonas broke himself to have pieces to play with. He preferred his own company to that of his companions. He kept quiet.

The people would find him strange if they knew that he was desperate to spend his nights blessed by solitude. Be polite. These people are your friends. These people will be your lovers. You must give them your time. Your time is never yours to keep. These people are your friends.

She was in love.  He was disgusted by the ease with which she surrendered. She was good. Jonas left. She is bad now, crying out to krokodil.

It didn't suit him to feel shame from the ghost of her glutted heart, wasted on his ambivalence.  He swallowed his wail and found the sun. He was looking for the moon. H…

A. Walrus Dialogue

Walrus: Knock Knock

C: No.

Walrus: I'm already inside- YOLO

C: Why did you knock?

Walrus: I'm the fucking Walrus. Why did you let me in?

C: Right. Still No. Get out. No YOLO.

Walrus: You know it hurts my feelings when you deny me. I taste like syphilitic chalk but I still hurt, C.

C: Does it really hurt your feelings?

Walrus: Yes.

C: I don't want your Walrus tears staining my floor. You can come in.

Walrus: I'm already in.

C: I mean you can stay.

Walrus: I didn't plan on leaving.

C: Why can't you be more like your cousin?

Walrus: The Klonopin Platypus?

C: The gentle bars.

Walrus: You're already gentle.

C: No. Walrus, I see what you're doing.

Walrus: You're seeing double.

C: Walrus, this isn't good for me.

Walrus: Listen C, you want to do stupid shit right? You always talk about how stupid you wish you could be. You don't fit in. You're like a housewife without a husband.

C: Yes...

Walrus: But without me, you start shaming yourself into a…

A. Walrus

I don't know how to party. We've been over this. I like to stay inside. It's warm. I don't have to worry about it. When I go out, I worry about it all the time. I just want to go home. I just want to go to sleep.

I stay in with the Walrus. The doctor said it was O.K. I brought him home in his orange suit. I can't see the sun to see my Walrus. The doctor said it was fine. I squeeze the cap. The Walrus teeth smile like a Cheshire cat.

That Walrus climbs into my mouth and sleeps under my tongue. Makes an acquaintance with my veins then opens the doors of perception with a poison-tipped umbrella. I should go to sleep but I don't. So we wrestle and I smile while the Walrus makes mischief.

I've been waking up in the morning with dried spit of a Walrus kiss and text messages I didn't know existed. I didn't know we were talking. I'm glad we said something. I wish I didn't use so many exclamations. I'm not as excited in the morning but I don'…

Clean

Your smile

I have savored.


The light lips

that fell in darkness.



My own, trembling,

pressed up against the wall

before your introductions.


Grasping at the rattling edges

of an old washing machine.

Help Tucker Breathe

Let me begin by stating the obvious: I have no interest in anyone but myself at any given moment. I think charities are a waste of money. Money that should have been siphoned into my bank account.

Why? Because doghouse- fuck you I'm broke.

However, there is one recent fundraiser that has caught my attention and gimp-masked my ordinary megalomaniac tendencies. The name of said fundraiser is the "Help Tucker Breathe". Go look it up. I'll post the link at the end but please take a second to look at it now.

Tucker Gordon was a coworker of mine when I lived in Richmond VA. He worked at a daycare/preschool with me.

Let me explain how impressive this young man is. Not only does he have the capacity to withstand children screaming and throwing tantrums, he genuinely loves to be with children. And for the modern 20-something male, that's fucking impressive.

Not only does he love children, but he is loved by them. Enthusiastically. Enough to make Michael Jackson so jeal…

La Belle-Fille De La Patrie