Rough mostly-unedited rambling and poetry written on my phone.
2016
Your life bright radiant decay
March 5, 2016 12:55AM
Your life, bright radiant decay,
easing in and out of breath,
whistling slowly towards death,
cinder of walking-talking carbon sun–
performs this circus every
decimal of time until it doesn’t
hot as fresh popsicles
February 27, 2016 4:46PM
girl at bar, hot as fresh popsicles,
lace bra open to your douchey tinder date,
I could never stand that whiney nasal
voice.
All the licking
February 20, 2016 1:23PM
All the licking sucking stars go down on you
and all the cuddles surround ‘round you and
all the cradles wrap around this tingling wrap-around
way of saying you are IT and there is nothing else.
moaning salted kisses bring you home.
ah pretty waitress we sing when you
February 20, 2016 9:50AM
ah pretty waitress we sing when you
lean in close, all us masses of single men
alone and sitting in the breath of mmmmm,
uh–of your perfume. And at those stars
pressed close are the closures of supernovas
blown thin in our limbs. a smile acted from
a mile-long day and we know that and reach
with the tip with infinite (but finite) love.
Primarily and unilaterally
January 28, 2016 1:41AM
nothing like long hair being pulled tight
in the dead of night, an arched back,
then winnowed silence purchased, moaned,
replete and happy.
Primarily and unilaterally fucked
shaved naked and drunk
January 23, 2016 9:18PM
Nothing like being shaved naked
and drunk Ina a warm fuzzy furry naked bed.
fission of a lit wick
January 12, 2016 7:08AM
fission of a lit wick rippling in flame,
carving wax, mute tongues all
empty of space, your days are
bullet points becoming shrapnel
quickly quickly quickly
LOST.
a candle is a story of an ending written
small.
a breath a fugue sung softly every
step.
2015
Time is a carnivore
October 14, 2015 2:26PM
Time is a carnivore chewing very slowly
why does each morning feel like I survived something?
aftermath of a battlefield, pain as though beaten.
lost worlds and brain sand.
placated winds
September 19, 2015 12:31PM
sailboats lopped on the horizon’s edge,
placated winds leaving lapped
silence
drifting distance
warming….
gone.
words all sounding the
same in melancholic repetitions