Month: November 2014

You Are What You Wear

cobblestone-louisiana-wisherd_8007_990x742

 

he smothered his hands
in a dress all tan
wrapped around a wiry frame
made out of cotton or
all things forgotten
he had a hell of a time remembering her name

nails as white as
LED lights
the blues sung their hues in a battery flame
she walked with a sway
on the old roaring bay
surrounded by tides that never came in when it rained

his hands dug up high
in her dress, in her thighs
O the mechanics were art and art that was fine
but a subtle reminder had
cast a brief stammer
as the smitten lad encountered another man’s prize

a flutter of slaps
on the fists up her lap
caused two cheeks to redden under the lamp post beat
the woman in tan
who in fact was a man
rolled her eyes painfully as a mouth moved to speak

“Don’t be so naive-
Don’t you dare judge my needs-”
preached a woman with ideals set firm in the street
“don’t give me the stares-
I am what I wear!”
the randy man smiled, “That’s well enough for me.”

Electric Sleep

computers serial experiments lain technology iwakura lain monochrome anime drawn anime girls 1920_www.wallpaperfo.com_17

 

everyone in the room
is clapping their hands
but no one can hear a sound
it’s always the same filigree ideas
swirling, and swirling around

communication
doesn’t have to be brazen
afterall, it’s just a whole lot of talk
and early every morning, there are less and less of us
taking walks

because who needs to travel
when everywhere
is right there inside your computer screen
sometimes the world is not a pretty place
as stationary as it seems

my keys are in pain from screaming out loud
i’d give it a glass of water
but I’m afraid it might drown

so
d r o w n

submerge all alerts and message boards
commit a mass murder of circuits instead
clip all of the wires inside of our cells
and drag ourselves upstairs
and straight back
to bed

 

/untitled

madona

 

half awake and somewhere else
i couldn’t drive so learned to talk
a thousand miles has got me
jailed for life
a time well-spent sharpening tools

but my lungs
my tongue
had never made much sense
a plot too smug to pull the plug
and i’m learning to outwit my youth
for a colder audience