2012222222

can't stop dreaming
about
hard candies,
their shapes    
under pocket linen

i dream i'm in
a competition,
need to perform
a dolly parton song

paint on red lips
to attract
humming-birds and
soft beard fur

mirror

[via]

and it winters

today i think my soul is boiling

everyone huddles over fire and electrics

i am incandescent

the only relief is evaporation

bare screaming skin to the ice wind

ascend as diaphanous steam

worry small pebbles in your palm

work, work in numb bursts
blast above the grip
of muggy mind-atmosphere,
flutter repeatedly to social media
release calculated distress calls
disguised as wit and triumph,
fantasize of letting your head rest     but you know
once it gets there that it'll just be stuffed
all in your foggy arm-folds and smelling the desk smell,
and you will not have disappeared.

spend concentrated hours
jamming grenade pins into various fruits
beat your fists sharply against your
largest muscle groups for the sweet
narcotic pain-spread

consider your blood a lot
consider tattoos of tigers
consider cheap tickets
consider fine cigarettes

chase the sleepy bliss hours
where you can harbor but not
disembark

good-bye dear leader

we have all been granted
the divine blessing
of tickets to heartbreak hotel.

eight hundred thousand swallows
rain seed pearl spheres
on deserving schoolgirls
and technology workers
dancing in linen and
immaculate cooperation.

my breast is an empty bowl
i beat to the rhythm of their ribbons.
we are howling a grief
we are stronger than ever for the
tide of dark forces at our gates.
but please, don't ask any
uncomfortable questions.

capitalist, dog,
if you don't fit you must
hammer yourself into the script.

[via]

powerful healing spell

i walk with all these limps

my boyfriend is a centaur with charlize theron's torso,
a creamy dappled stallion body

i braid flowers in his mane and ride him
in my hero parade

tire tier

today i am
a small robot sick with rabies
feebly sweeping litter and
blubbering rustily under
mineral encrustations.
take it from me.
these bicycle chains
whip around the gears,
bystanders laughing
and throwing heads of
lettus to shred on my
exposed metal parts.
we are making a slaw.
i am the essence of the party.
we're talking shop sounds,
shank my talk box,
shut me, ow.
set my tracks
to the precipice
for a laugh,
exhaust
sucking
one more mug
to make a shine