Sep 17, 2007
Sep 12, 2007
Nina Goes Harlequin
Nina wakes and wishes she could spill her heartache into the room
but it is already too empty
& big enough for a battle
written on one wall
in an explosion of rust:
I DROPPED BY TO SEE YOU
yep, you dropped by alright
just like a flushable moist wipe
beep beep
incoming message from
mr yellow mellow:
found those mouse skin gloves you wanted
and?
and one glock 9mm
I don't remember asking for one of those, you gumless socket!
my dear friend, you don't remember alot of things lately.. TTYL
he was right, she spent far too much time drifting between dream stations
watching ________ spit his seed into every porcelain ashtray of an open link.
damn him! he was the dark star taped to every page she wrote, a blue moon stuck in her throat.
Nina fights the urge to dig out her opiate tuck. instead she puts on her favorite dress: pale & cool with real leafy undertones. she adorns her hair with a few closed michelia champaca buds, grabs her silver purse & skips down the
sometimes there - sometimes not
but it is already too empty
& big enough for a battle
written on one wall
in an explosion of rust:
I DROPPED BY TO SEE YOU
yep, you dropped by alright
just like a flushable moist wipe
beep beep
incoming message from
mr yellow mellow:
found those mouse skin gloves you wanted
and?
and one glock 9mm
I don't remember asking for one of those, you gumless socket!
my dear friend, you don't remember alot of things lately.. TTYL
he was right, she spent far too much time drifting between dream stations
watching ________ spit his seed into every porcelain ashtray of an open link.
damn him! he was the dark star taped to every page she wrote, a blue moon stuck in her throat.
Nina fights the urge to dig out her opiate tuck. instead she puts on her favorite dress: pale & cool with real leafy undertones. she adorns her hair with a few closed michelia champaca buds, grabs her silver purse & skips down the
sometimes there - sometimes not
May 7, 2007
Unable To Send Because Of Spurious Software
Nina puts on some soft head plus fingers and writes:
click-clock,
thanks for the leaf full of time.
don't forget the murdered when
you dismantle
who would not fall to your stroll
killer feathers
tiny channels
kiss.
click-clock,
thanks for the leaf full of time.
don't forget the murdered when
you dismantle
who would not fall to your stroll
killer feathers
tiny channels
kiss.
Mar 13, 2007
Mar 10, 2007
Nina Loses The Remote Control
his close echoes surround her teeth
his style is her style
spread out
&
smoke mellowed
she wants his lips
to wiggle on her forearm
his tongue to
make her move
like
a
fast
car
her mouth can taste his face
his saw-hair
his knees
she wants him to grease his thoughts
and slide slower
do you want more?
she nods &
adjusts her eye shine
his style is her style
spread out
&
smoke mellowed
she wants his lips
to wiggle on her forearm
his tongue to
make her move
like
a
fast
car
her mouth can taste his face
his saw-hair
his knees
she wants him to grease his thoughts
and slide slower
do you want more?
she nods &
adjusts her eye shine
Feb 19, 2007
Tuesday
she woke up with one sock on and
one sock off
they were green knee-socks and
reminded her of the girl scouts and
that goofy sun on the old kellogg's
raisin bran box .
on the mail screen from Valentino Body:
dig, Date: Feb 5:37 AM Spam or ? ]
these `,`,`ords in heads, burn.
clock rod order
arks and your hands
i've flagged tomorrow,
you red bow nanna absorbed in white
Check Clear Next
then
that little slish- swishing sound
like in the beginning of that postal service song,
Such Great Heights
one sock off
they were green knee-socks and
reminded her of the girl scouts and
that goofy sun on the old kellogg's
raisin bran box .
on the mail screen from Valentino Body:
dig, Date: Feb 5:37 AM Spam or ? ]
these `,`,`ords in heads, burn.
clock rod order
arks and your hands
i've flagged tomorrow,
you red bow nanna absorbed in white
Check Clear Next
then
that little slish- swishing sound
like in the beginning of that postal service song,
Such Great Heights
Feb 18, 2007
Nina Rides A Hundred Miles In Six Hours
her sleep is mystical nonsense
she can not answer his shape
only sense his face
he has a beard
artfully disguised as soft
she can not answer his shape
only sense his face
he has a beard
artfully disguised as soft
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