 |
she has a stupid grin.
a grin the cat would like to
call its own.
for ships have no place in
the middle of the
desert; or dessert
but in t..
|
|
silence offends us.
bloom with the outthrust
of a catapult-
we speak the stone
of broken heart:
flowers gain a stony
gleam.
|
|
she likes to hurt when she loves.
pulls apart the apron strings tying
her to decency,
and naked will decay before his very moral
eyes.
seeing ..
|
|
let words reach down the throat of dawn
and write the sunrise.
the river dreams of water,
i realize i am incomplete.
...
truly,
as being..
|
|
my cat has been naughty,
has killed another bird
feathers lie strewn like
little dresses on the bedroom
floor,
i slide its desiccated body..
|
|
i lie beside your grave--
to show them that i have feelings;
for the eclipse of rebirth
and because by the numbers
on the wall are yellow teeth
..
|
|
it probably has artful language
and moon residue.
likes to touch your heart,
that naughty thing no
c**k could penetrate. only
words
only ..
|
|
i asked my watch for the time,
told me to f-on-off.
no manners, only seconds drifting
into paper cups
upturned--
sip on time; in time
as ..
|
|
red paint chips
slide into soft mouth
colours of the wall fading,
dark sun clings onto
surface
indigo lips push out at
the cool lemonade..
|
|
A hillbilly, no a born again
bigot, with newspaper eyes and
crows feet etched on his shoulder blades...
"Dylan?" he mutters, from ear-..
|
|
|
first
prev
Profile
Writing
Friends
Share This