My raunchy black and white world guts our hearts...
My bread and butter
Makes dull sounds
Against your beautiful hands
then you bite in carnivorous heaves-
My cancerous soul
Drips in tears
As I feel your color
With my sleeping eyes
And enjoy the breeze
And smell your light
It tastes
Like wine
It tastes
Like wine
The timing was ripe
My pounding, grinding
Muscles were swelling
We, two broken hearts of fear-
Afraid to die
Alone in the stale air
The swamp sweat beads
Musky wetness imitates
Glistening, slamming
And the smell of delight
Like a
Flowering rose
Like a
Flowering rose
Yes, I inhale you green gaze,
Oh yes, that’s it, oh yes
Memories of school return
You’re showing me books
And your
Brand new camera
That captured our hearts
And my gelled spiked hair
In the Thursday night air
Like a rock star entrance
In the blue
Haze dancing
In the blue
Haze dancing
I opened the door
Your unclaimed titties
Looked pretty fuckin’ good
I drank a couple more from the community jug
And lounged like a lizard
Playing cards
To cover my naked death
And imperfect scars
Like so many veins
At the wild piano playing
On your
Mandarin tongue
On your
Mandarin tongue
The backdoor jazz
With its off beat cymbals
Played to our intimate thrusts
Against the bricks in the alley
Our voodoo-laced love
Cracking through the dusk
And was wet to the touch
Though our heart were gutted and
Our journey took us
To a burning bed, and the music played
Inside
Our heads
Inside
Our heads
I suffered through my bullshit
In aimless directions
Self destructive, day in and out
Then you fell in
And gave me a clean slate
With your innocent giggles
Oblivious to my tobacco-cracked lips that were
Salivating like a jackal
Smelling the fuck
I lay there on my back
And feel a twinge of regret
The slate
Again tainted
The slate
Again tainted
We watched a movie
Such polite acting
While I was eating you out
I drank all the wine
As I took advantage of you
My little honey
Reciting every fucking word
Trying to appease my bad temper
It didn’t happen
So I stayed up all fucking night
And my bed never slept as
I buzzed
Your cunt
I buzzed
Your cunt
why doesn't she leave me, I am already dead.
already dead...
Derived from the following billydavidson poems, in order:
“bread and butter”
“feel her color”
“timing”
“heat”
“into two”
“beads”
“whoops”
“yes”
“memories of school”
“camera”
“lounge lizard”**
“knurled”
“wet with mandarin tongue”
“gutted hearts”**
“clean slate”**
“cool as clay death”**
Author notes
...................poems marked ** commented on by me.
Best viewed at a screen resolution greater than 1024x768,
otherwise the last lines are wrapped.
Scene:
the male character here is full of self-destruction and abuse;
the female character, for some reason that is only known to nature,
clings to him to as he seeks his doom, and beyond...
Written February 14th, 2005
In a list
What did you think
Comments
-
this is fucking amazing. the intriguing and evocative arrangement was effective, the imagery was brilliant, the mixture of sensitivity and humor and sex was more or less effective. however, the following struck me as a little jarring: "The backdoor jazz/With its off beat cymbals/Played to our intimate thrusts." that was the only part that didn't seem to- er- *flow* quite smoothly enough.
it was a stunningly creative write. all of your work breathes of a great deal of knowledge and intelligence, warmth, and a similarly great deal of quirky humor. kudos
-
NO! Thank you for the challenge! This is a realm I feared to travel in... and thanks for the comment- every time I get one I go back and do some tweaking... and good poetic response!
Edited on Feb 14, 4:48 p.m. because ''. -
Wow...okay...all I can say is that you did a fuckfantastic job with incorporating my baby's genius pieces...this just rolled off the tongue like french vowels, spiked with russian spice and a pinch of the mandarin marvelous...lol. Honestly, I enjoyed this from scalp to heel, and congradulate you on this rather stunning piece...
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