oh well

what would a miss be, a true one
aligning alternately, who can you hear?
I've the salmon wall
I've the meat separating me
I'm the I'm sorry
I'm the original I'm Sorry
I just want my blankets back
I don't want you to have anything of mine
I want to bury you
I want to be the most unforgivable, the meanest
I want to tell you how I never believed it
and that could have stayed innocent, but now I'm free and now
it digs
because sometimes I think I'm better than the world
and I'm standing on air
it's nicest to be alone in winter
it really does something to us
I think you're wrong and I hate a lot about that
so abandon baby
break the space in two
winner
make me too easy

this is a little bit after work it makes me think about to work

the street is empty and humid
I don't know what temperature is anymore
I don't know what I did this drink at anymore
don't know what kind of drink it is
it's free after work drink
I'm sitting in front of work out
and I'm wishing that I had all of the minutes of the world
to Castle Rock on me
to turn it rock on me
order it
rock on me
I sweat out this in the kitchen
the sins of the kitchen
the wet slimy under my nails
the slamming me under my nails
it under my nails meet under my nails
I have more meat for my bones
what I have in my milk crate:
animal on a sandwich wrapped in tin foil
chicken eggs wrapped in a brown paper bag
a quart container of coffee, dipping in wrinkled on the lead
addicted and then a peach and LA sky
and non negotiable pay stub with my name on it
a box of roasted brussel sprouts
a bottle of water I always forget to drink it
phone charger
sliced bread.
I'm in a good mood
I like my people,
and I like the scene
just wish I could call Kyle
because I miss him
any send me messages that a Dad would send
I could see how you could be lucky to have him for a dad
but I've got mad dads
every man I've been very close to, close to by choice
other than lovers
has been dead to me
they've been dads to me
but it's alright after work hard one
in short sleeves and short dress
and a compliment from a woman
and a smoke with new friends
but I forgot to change out of these Pumas
so my style remains fresh.

me, again it's me again

I'm getting too good at this
like being too old at this
I'm reading a short story in bed and the story ends and
I realize I've been doing that thing
where I go back in a murky ball
  for you
a guy at work told me about how he cut his knuckle on the meat slicer once
and that the worst of it
was the sound it made.
it was just like the mortadella
it was just like meat.
reminding him we're just meat.
oh I know
it's a brain day
that I'm tender meat on the in & out.
I'm all brain heart lungs
but I look like a regular body bag
and I force them on me
and one day, someone might want to, again

oozehair

Tonight I went to a dinner party for a best old friend

and he made chicken in the oven and with tiny tomatoes and tiny asparaguys

and I sat across the table from an old still someone from teen years,

but with his two parents flanking us,

and I practiced with knife & fork to shred the thigh

this little juice thigh, and I also thought I don't know how to cut meat from the bone

because I was so meatless for so long

& I like chicken only twice, now

so nothing I think like would be perfect bacon

I listen to this song by adele a lot

where she walks through paris

on the rain bridges

with the jawbone & the cheekbone & the buttchin

looking sad like crying sad

like sad crying sad

sometimes it lasts in love but sometimes it hurts instead

The dinner conversation, how to kill a chicken how a grizzly kills a fish don't you gut a fish before you eat it, don't you pluck a chicken once it's dead?

I thought your parents were great. I liked the creamcheese frosting

My eyelashes rainwiping the insides of my glasses

if you call me I will answer,

if you call me I am calling you back

and I am talking to you for a million years

I came to my room & opened the door

and I found a smell to trap

sorry if you think that's gross, but the odor is in my top five.

I was afraid of the bedroom, waited till 9

I was afraid of the bed

I was afraid of the bedside wine box

I was afraid of the pillow, the pillow we stole and wanted & somehow sometimes shared

I was scared of one side of the bed

I am afraid to go into it

but I came and in the dark breathed it all in, pillowed

& filled with scents of another other than me

and you & me
and I am afraid more that should it not become an artifact
a museum room
in all its dust
and fur
and hair
and debris, and all of the soak in it
I'm taking pictures with the fingers on my face
& the fingers in my nose
in snaps and little licks

I washed my hair today, but it is not a better person for it

it is better though

sustain hers

Sustain able, to think of two hipbones now. Never speak to me again, I don’t know the pelvis,
I’m starved for all of us.

Don’t worry treating sexual matters decentless. You’re not even near the beginning. I’ll take care displaying your favorite meat, my hand gently on her face, the subject horse. I am here, an edible European plant. I see her in nature; she stifled a tear and put the daisy near the potted flowers. I am a weed with him, with a long root like little icicles.

And guess what
He fucked her slow and a parsnip is standing on one foot, still. Just the way she wanted it. Slow, stately with pink cheeks, holds true after they finished. A piece of music and lips and we possibly forever will.

She looked at the seven stars; we stand and smile. Can’t see him near, and she puts her face in sight. “Are you the north pole?” Close to sightless eyes because I don’t love like a serum. And we touch, I wander; I love thin, watery.

I put my chin in her, sort of experiencing everything. I love the distant stars, warm with the other senses. Why don’t constellations smell her? Though to have a baby with fixed stars, we kiss more particular than any other. They were silent, not cold and we’re not paying any attention. Show me lavender, softly. The sun, she rolls in styrofoam... She looked at him, considering, a position requiring little nothing keep from touching you. Various types looked into his eyes, rinsing. We can’t really stop… and examples of vague and meager depressions looked into hers.