the only pornography i've ever paid money for was bad hentai on vhs when i was 13

you've been given
a hival outcasted mound lobe
to gut around in

this foundling
reached up to an udder,
blighted rosegold rimmings nipped
all swum eyeball-deep
down access channels
sniffing for a kind of chemical
an unmother sourness
that you once suckered
in little solip clusters

start a feisty beg and chew 
you deuceface
muster a caterwaul of
how now to produce
who am i in a clench
and sowing and sow
or go bust

drought-rot

hotel california

cher with her mother in nelson, ne, looking out the window of her mother-in-law's kitchen after planning larry's funeral.  i don't know why i took this on my phone but she had been standing there for awhile and it was very still. 

these are strange days.

whet

i blister prettily,
delineating 
who i used to be
 
chew down to verbs,
a lot of itchy shedding,
icy cabochon eyes under
unclouding meltwater

tried to
trust in my mouth parts,
tap accept, accept
on the window milk,

so eschew me,
chameleonness  
sink holing or swole

under young leafs i
sat and sang O give me
a home
in autonomy
ever more, a-
men

and i like you blowing down
on me softly
while i dance off these legs