-
-
but even when the threads lash me tightly to my skull,
-
-
even now, in the stale laughter of a strobe light,
-
To the Most Beautiful:
So you take, let's say, the third toke, long and slow; you vaporize, and you take it in, and in, and in....and there is a sound, like the crumpling of a plastic bread wrapper, or the crackling
-
twist
and eyes narrow and purr,
-
-
and we are all ripples
loud and circular and strange
-
she was made of methylphenidate,
and on the fourth day she took
-
when the world reaches absolute zero
all the English professors will light their last cigars
-
how good thou art, in whole and part,
in cheesey splendor thou!
-
-
-
a small black square
and a small blue circle
-
-
-
i am wires,
stretched long
-
And so it goes / The spark of moon on pavement / The click of boots in danger / The nighttime pounding in your ears / Mascara squeezing out
-
than sitting arms-deep in pillows— / listening to Pink Floyd loud enough / that God bangs on your roof / & says to keep it down— / watching beams of light molest each other / and explode.
-
Take my cigarette / Loving wonder accident / It’s burning fast, iconoclast, / Can’t you see your epithet / It’s written there already for y
-
what does it m e a n when girls enunciate accentuate
-
I have seen my brothers fall Lying where they once stood tall
-
The glow of a streetlamp is colder than it’s warm As I walk between the gashes in the veil
-
I suck the melancholy through the filters of my fathers And the icy rain parades around my face
-
like tori amos on crack, maybe?
-
tonight i can write the saddest lines,
because the dreamsaint is still alive
-
In somber black the widow weeps alone;
The princess storms about the castle keep;
-
I can see the mightiness in everything they say
The coldness in their hearts and in their eyes
-
-
set the lifeforce into one plane,
set the oppressive force perpendicular,
-
you splinter me into crystal shards,
slice your wrists with the edges
-
i’ve got eighty-eight buttons
and you push them all,
-
I check into the Heartbreak Hotel
Back at this place I know so well
-
Mona Lisa, Mona Lisa
Can I have a piece of you?
-
some madman ran through town
and where he pointed, the heavens
|