"It's all printed off a computer."
Intimacy signed off at 5:10 am EST,
Exhausted by wireless communications,
The acrobatically clumsy wet-nurse hyperbole of the world.
No, I hate scrapbooking.
--Well, maybe you just don't have the right scraps,
Cuz I tell ya whatwhat, my self-steam ain't
hot nuff to flaccidize a broccoli head, & I'd
be glad to be leftover scraps all up
in yr seemingly southern-climate cozy,
precipitation-heavy, bush limned junkyard.
"Send in the hearththrob, cue the shrieks."
You sure look stupid in that greendress Lisa.
Pinch attack! O no, everyone's wearing green
What are you lookin at? The innocent words of
A drunken child.
I'm a patriot, just like anyone else in prison.
Babies, more than bruises or rugburn, are the most irritating sex injury.
I huddle, wrinkling the chore of my church clothes.
Okay, here's an anonymous doll with no head.
My wife is putting cardboard over her side of the TV,
The 60s were long over & ppl were just again
getting ready to feel bad about themselves again.
unzip my diaper toward the dairy wall
avalanche of shellfish, cheeses, meats and caviars
all the children are being allowed 30 mins to
pick out their treats (3 a piece) after dinner--
grenadine nasturtium sorbetto, sugar bunny
The ice cream cartons are rimed
a beginner's shrug
eyes like children wanting to skip up & down the aisle
roomy kitchen, convection oven, ice cube dispenser
really do things super deluxe
I think there's a kind of Disney vulgarity
skimpy laugh trying to wrap a towel round feelings
just came out of the shower
Accost tacos fuck!
Squatting like a bouncing lettuce rump drenched in sweet-
Nothing at all will remain
Because I was roaring like an emphysema-tango
to bare it
Because I was large on close inspection
like a miracle carnally snatched before the
girl from the zoo could call out, snot rocketing archetypes
of dirt like snowdrift through the nostrilly appendage
of my heart
Wedged in the global village's archetypeangel's consumption chorale
My shouldery mind, a footballpaddled door wedge,
Swells like a deep-penetrated, battered tater-wife.
A gilded red dogrocket drills, entitled to love among rouged
Wrinkles, the bestial banks of my sewagey backwater 2nd-thoughts.
I detect many thousand tobacco fire-signals of boredom!
Now you, clothed in the autotuned anguish of olden apostles
& days, have finished me off,
Eternity fashions a festival of hundredweight maws
To give me the unwithered double rainbow made of yr
Inclement and hairpin-turn-bovine-sweating lips!
The current crisis of capitalism confronts
students with all their electronic devices
playing Judas, again,
rising cost of education
drastic decrease in real world returns
I huddle wrinkling the chore of my church clothes
In the kick-game rising per quarter lb cost of education.
A member of the Tribeca supergentry just bought
his 4 yr old son some swordfish fillet, 2 lbs, $97.48
If I can't be trusted, does that mean I'm
not true? I'm tired. I only wanted
more than you. I'm tired of scrapbooking
your dairy caveats & scalplike ice cream.
I would still unzip my diaper towards you,
my diary, my avalanche of walls
and afterdinner treats.
Your skimpy laugh is always trying to wrap a towel
around these anonymous-doll-with-no-head feelings.
I have vulnerable feelings I feel just came monstrously manboobed
out of the shower, dripping BP-olive-oil all over
the cardboard carpet whose cigarette burns and caviar of fleas
exhibit a drastic decrease in real world returns &
the Disney vulgarity of good-humored laughter at MTV Real World reruns.
I love you because you don't know it and don't love yourself.
I hope, in this modern world of hot-pocket-like distractionary devices,
You don't start forgetting to remember you hate yourself.
Rejoice that just beyond the ladies' room crime scene tape,
A videotape of you opening a can of tuna with your orthodontically
rehabbed teeth exists, collecting enough dust in a Winnebago-
Radical's broken VCR to confirm your cubicled work
Is the split cuticles of your life.