Monday, January 30, 2012

What is beautiful?

coat racks strutting in fabric scraps
jock straps pulled over fat packages
abs cracked open like beer bottles
metal o-rings clinging to fused openings
chains dangling from new plugs
crayoned ink scrawled across taut skin
scars stapled across hearts
childborn weight-worried stretch marks
phantom limbs haunting shadows

a force thrusting it's way in

Thursday, January 12, 2012

Truth doesn't remember

I feel like typical Kenosha, everything waiting.
They all stopped.
There must be a sign overhead: Clouds Beware.

I agree with most messages,
But I may not agree with you without a trip to the walk-in
Where you can pin me to a 2008 calendar.

Lick your own crotch and drool.
Don't remember bad times or bite things in May.
Keep my germs and we can have a wonderful relationship.

You're all tired, my 20-year Boy Scout.

You believe about your beliefs.
It's not just the way you're delivered to church.
You're one of the few people with God.

Yes. Yes. Yes.
Hanging out a day or two late.
Everything you say will work.
The way you lived your life wasn't broken.
Truth doesn't remember who you used to be.

By the time I get home, my paper for myself will have died

And the clocks on the wall will stop seeming smarter.

Wednesday, January 11, 2012

We both share at least one god

Got bad news: two cats or one Katie bashed his plans.
Not much is going right. What say you?
I'm liking this one thing: his 2010 campaign.

With you in mind, CNN's Dana leveraged his increasing support.
After his second-place finish, he has what it takes to love.
The best so far was bringing Illinois and Wisconsin together now.

It's so nice that you're proud of me.
For me, people of Bookface, I am doing everything for me.
Love and miss you. Got an exclusive interview moving forward.

Sis, go to South Carolina and plan to spend all day outside.
In New Hampshire, be the Replublican nominee.
One at a time love you, Madeline.

Reek of sophistication. I mean there is nothing wrong with that.
For the life of me, that shit's sexy.
Our route, 4.2 miles. Woot!

Rest in peace with Rep. Ron Paul. Tell us if you think in the snow.
Last night, the mixed reports about Gov. Walker eventually died.
His team is being caught on this issue.

We share the same commonality: sharing updates.
We both have at least one god.
Did the official Google map of us.

Criminal governors finally took the time to educate the public.
I don't know why they would have such a strong aversion.
Venereal diseases have to get musical education.

Cheri, Megan, Erika, et. al. turn out ass cheek tattoos.
Add femininity, a lower back/ass tattoo, call it a "tramp stamp."
I wonder if Corretta had one.

Monday, January 9, 2012

Entendre, double-dutch

You've been sleeping together?

Wait! No!
Not like that, I mean,
not together,
like you know

In kindergarten?

You mean
somebody rode you hard
and put you away wet?

Only because I wanted to go swimming!
It was a workout!

Sleep meds bonking with my head

Nat King Cole knew how to roll
kicked in their heads and then
blew some smoke.

Write some ritual.
Write for my rights.
Write cuz I'm white
and don't know how to... write.

they gave me sleep meds
and they are bonking with my head.

Already not fair, I say.
Some sort of terrible fur-covered nugget.
I'm expected to smile and style my hair
after a lady hair bow.

Go fuck
and make him
an even happier schizo.