Tag: poems

nude neck

Exposed, exhaling
Excitable wood
Fingers on tendons
Crying, like a violin
Symphonic suffocating
Ebbs and dissonance flows
Silently, drums playing
Fleshy chords, struggling
Such muffled and soft
Melodies feel like a loss
Like giving in to a selection
Of a forgotten age
Of feeling powerless
And knowing your music
Is in the conductor’s hands

nude neck

Exposed, exhaling
Excitable wood
Fingers on tendons
Crying, like a violin
Symphonic suffocating
Ebbs and dissonance flows
Silently, drums playing
Fleshy chords, struggling
Such muffled and soft
Melodies feel like a loss
Like giving in to a selection
Of a forgotten age
Of feeling powerless
And knowing your music
Is in the conductor’s hands

pure romance

I want to mate
Mount you
Sink my teeth
In the flesh
Fill you with my seed
The animals
We are
Forever meant to be

If this, if that

If this, if that

If every damn piece

Of future we don’t have

Could bite our ears

It’d be in charge

Like the faerie devils

That we see on shoulders

Around the way

Sitting and chatting

Away the loneliness

Screeching of little white

Lies we want to believe

While hiding

And waiting for the shit

To tumble down the hill

Well no, well no

That’s not right

To say that

If this, if that

Is what we hear

And now

You got but one

Devil waiting when

You got on your hands:

A man who knows loneliness

Had wrapped himself

Up in a cocoon

And darlin’

He’s tired

Of if

If this, if that

If this, if that

If every damn piece

Of future we don’t have

Could bite our ears

It’d be in charge

Like the faerie devils

That we see on shoulders

Around the way

Sitting and chatting

Away the loneliness

Screeching of little white

Lies we want to believe

While hiding

And waiting for the shit

To tumble down the hill

Well no, well no

That’s not right

To say that

If this, if that

Is what we hear

And now

You got but one

Devil waiting when

You got on your hands:

A man who knows loneliness

Had wrapped himself

Up in a cocoon

And darlin’

He’s tired

Of if

craigslist donation

desperation, need, beer, whiskey

combination of all elements

weaknesses and pie, the sky

dark beneath a street lamp

shadows and silence, late night

suburbs beckon to no one,

the privacy of glass and steel

the night alone with my hand

resting on your shoulder, torn

blood runs dry, flows downward

feeling your eyes wander

and the subject, broached

by me, so you say you can make

any man come to

and my hand rests neatly in your

hair, once done now loosed about

feeling you try, your lips and hand

soft and then determined, like a furious game

of whack a mole, whack a cock

so that near the end I wonder

if Buddha ever sat in his car

got lost in the streetlights

with a pretty monk at his lap

and felt as zen as I was just then

which is to say, nothing

craigslist donation

desperation, need, beer, whiskey

combination of all elements

weaknesses and pie, the sky

dark beneath a street lamp

shadows and silence, late night

suburbs beckon to no one,

the privacy of glass and steel

the night alone with my hand

resting on your shoulder, torn

blood runs dry, flows downward

feeling your eyes wander

and the subject, broached

by me, so you say you can make

any man come to

and my hand rests neatly in your

hair, once done now loosed about

feeling you try, your lips and hand

soft and then determined, like a furious game

of whack a mole, whack a cock

so that near the end I wonder

if Buddha ever sat in his car

got lost in the streetlights

with a pretty monk at his lap

and felt as zen as I was just then

which is to say, nothing