"..who's some kind of pervert or some rotten piece of meat then..."
Little Death
"...battling waltz whose
music is gasping
intercourse and whose conductor is
an animal in your skin who let a
book seduce who let knuckles
cow you who let fingernails
mark you who let spit
scour you who let some
gull feather elevate you to
the most incredibly fleeting
nowhere until you were back
somewhere and with me
here
under a hat
breathing heavily"
In His Perfect Image
"One day you
wake up and your hands are
hammers
Introspect,
there is no noble savage here, never was,
no I became this way."
Some Kind of Incredibly Erotic Hell
"...I couldn't
scream happily like some stupid
dog or pull at her and
pull everything into me,
"
Chastity Belt
"preteen horror, oh sparrow full stomach
god, the shore sped from us so now we place
our trust in you"
Humility Wolf
"...he told me I should kill somebody with just my hands,
said he'd done it, it made him a man.
it was a woman even, a lamb then, some girl..."
Good Friday
"...and she is not some sexy albatross - never was.
drink your warm milk and touch her small photograph. say a prayer then. "
Who Am I?
That time makes new things old
makes beautiful things un
beautiful makes us ugly strangers makes
each and every word from my lips
a desolate sound or place
Fleeting, Fucking Fleeing
Oh these dreaming days followed by
disembodied nights, who wakes up exhausted
from punishing sleep only to punishing self
Whose phases are more varied and numerous
than a fistfull of moons, whose hands are [becoming a]
foreign flesh
Who soon won't recognize herself,
who I could only hope to keep
She Loves Me, She Loves Me Not
...but the black hole in my gut doesn't bode well... we can only hope for happy endings...
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)