......

Nina regrets not letting him wear her pants to work but she was still mad about him beating off on her ass and his drunk friend banging on her door at 2 in the morning.
let him in, he probably has cigs
and do i want him putting another hole in the wall with his head. . no thanks.
yeah, you're right, it would have turned into a nightmare

& there ya go. in the next dream they are all together in an apartment filled with too many rooms, pets and chaos. no yard, no flowers, but a 'work-out' room. ugh.

oh well. 7:30 a.m. and she is alone with the rest of the chardonn aaaaaaaaay, brandy and a couple of cigs. she opens the magic window:

salty - shit - one call for submissions

ag - oooooooo... star linguini .. affectionate eyeshadowing

myspace - i am going to collect a reward (my secret)

blogger - htc stopped by and left a dose of 'hello, how are ya, my friend'.

...

Nina gets out a can of jellied cranberry sauce .. she is going to feast on the other white meat, tonite.

KJU

I'll paint you a black painting, very red
rough boy, innards sounding like doorbells buried by lifts for little. A dark surface, ants in locks.
Taste the snowy fabric of your fifth glass.

Well....?

Tastes like rotten wood and loneliness. Fly Air India if you ever leave the states. The drinks are free.

Nina's phone is busy, symbols forgiving the light, beehive drone & detached ring tones.

I like the little bead of sweat sliding out from underneath that collar. Is it a dog collar?

Nina squints. Her eyes are silver. The pupils, dark buckets. Sort of scary.

Street thorax.

Huh?

Get any interesting messages?

Nah. Just the regular short curves. The usual spy ware infections.

I love watching the clouds slide off the pewter sky. ..

Emmm. Ever try that white Merlot?

Bet it tastes like white Zinfandel.

Yup.

*

The black beaded tattoo on her right wrist glitters, as the dome around the cabin, softly closes.

OK with you if we watch Pink - Don't leave Me?

Sure.


~*~

..

Nina holds his elastic flowing
for one more second
then lets it go.

she passes over the pencil pressed trenches
and scans the thought cards in the mirror,

presses the heart button with love
& feels all the channels.


She Smokes Another Cig To Stay Awake


lost finger, touch mine harder
i like your gliding gun
your dissolved press of my wrists
the ripples in your eyes so ... so.. big
your paper thighs in/on all that immobile lace..


ah girl.. come sit on my face! love the intoxication roll but hate that hair.

were my eyes not
in a bird with vacui stare.
.. u left cheese on the counter
plus. . u nothin' but a bichejos
bichejob and u never help me out. and your last piece was a cut-up.

.


listen to me.. above the lips above the scar & the light halo...

Liebestraum no.3 ...


no image.




*

blue ink day. close the book, squash the bug. Nina looks into the toothpaste splattered mirror. the skin:
becoming more and more discolored, blotched, broken. capillaries blooming. 
the day had started with another unexplainable nose bleed. she was tainted by an ugly virus. and it was growing stronger. just seeing made her tired. she wanted to go back to sleep, even if the sleep turned into another storm. she saw herself walking towards him, the ground rising, the sky gold-lit, her skirt, wildly pink.  something she would never wear. there was always a house, rooms filled with disorder. mostly she craved the sense of smell but there was no button for that. a hurricane blowing in and out, minutes of nothing where she could rest. another hour another sleep. this time she can see pictures inside of him, membranes of elongated, orange flowers curling in a serenade of love, a woolly texture. a dixie cup --- its small star design glowing neon, the points pogo-ing up and down, up and down. thick and thin lines circling the rim. a card covered in tiny, pulsating starfish. then again, a nothingness. the annoying sound of the phone ringing brings Nina back. she gets off of the cloud bed and walks to the picture window, puts her finger on his name. no mail.

Oceania

i miss u

didn't even realize how much till i found your old blog profile. that whole thing about the ocean made all my mornings softer. i continue clicking my life away, without you. but the poems are gone. the words, empty. dictionaries of silence. the hotel room, just an empty sheet of paper.
i sweep past your posts. bare soles * older & older, we both laughed at him, together. . the way he thinks he knows.


Monday, July 18, 2005

sleep baby, sleep..

while the devil
shepherds your
eyelids thru reincarnations
the braille of scar
& informal workshops
sleep baby, sleep

and know that you are loved

like the quiet key or
a jungle flower --- ants in the hollow stem
racing to secret destinations

& so the heart beats on

........

it was always blue on blue. we never kissed, never really even wanted to. and every one i gave you, you took.




begin again
with the soft thing
begin again and send me words
shaped in an isle of smoke



*


Sunday, July 24, 2005

no heroes..
only deep pockets
of varied storms
playing about this city and its smoking digits
its crying lambs & down time

souls partially reflected in eddies
darker than venereal gums
or the ebony-handled knife
stroking a soft cheek


*


Corkscrew Misdemeanor

It's like you suck off my boots

with each sip

& run ahead of the soundtrack

a hushed chorus of synthetic noise

caught in your eyebrow

and yes

you pour and

I sink

into


*

baby, baby, baby, baby...


Collapsing, Moans Cloudhead, Rain Unto Earth

and I am perched on the tip of something big

this may take all day

he burns new and bright

his elbows and feet
awkward and sweet

his hands
dew-slick windings

his mouth tastes of woodsmoke
I imagine its dark color.........

*

[ here is where i would post your beautiful face but what is the point ]


*

THIS DAY, A FRIDAY

the hours are:

leaves
drowned ideas
lost creatures
trains
dark shawls
automobiles (whispers)

a perfume of black wings & lost things.

shiny ping-tings
my hand in your no-
where-shadow

sickles in cells

your smile.. a twisted gin sour

i like it when you

sample

yourself.

........



what is on the nightstand now? an overture of ash in your cup and the clear skyy spill?

how long will you stay
box writing
plucking the dark
waiting for me to do it to a real girl
and seeing your face
maybe i don't want to come back
a pennant for you to dip in salt
to suck, silt & stroke
to roast when the mood strikes




Sep 9, 2006

Fragments 1 - 37

Hey Flatfish X,
you need butcher paper & portable legs
to fall with occasion
~
then at cum window (not yet written)
girl hail & text trances
~
Nina didn't care whether or not the room overlooked the harbor
she was depressed and only wanted to sleep.
~
dream 1
she was standing in a round, flying machine
they were cruising over an island, spotted with palm trees, he was speaking and she was laughing
there was a large, silver purse slung over her shoulder
when she moved
it sparkled
~
outside small waves leave their foam upon the shore
~
in the room next door
a man with tangled eyes
writes:

death music

our last ash drops into the air
we become gigantic stars that walk among the trees
below us wavers wave away the last wave
to brush silver from their hair
~

hello, spring:

i fondle you & i kiss him

pocket your flying colors

your sunny composer voices
so tran,quil,iz,ing
is suddenly drummed up
fat and full of gnome gardens, a reckless soil
turning

my april heart of not-beats

a fuzzy collage of:
tiny pink ribbons
worms
a tulip
so
lilac dusted yet pearly

ha, you forgot the robin.. and your eyes are kites in the sky, my love, my sweetness, my endless bliss. your code is always hit & miss.

my code is on your lips!

maybe.. until i burn it off with my next cig. nah.. i'll plant a tree for you and water it with some shiraz.. paint a chicken embryo, send it to you like a yummy chocolate bunny.. take the car to the car wash & and not feel like such a winter mummy.

alrighty and just so you know, the embryo i will keep safe with the rainbow..
maybe bend it back
into a straight line
or send it to the echoes.

aw girl, don't be putting no salt in my game. you know i love you and you drive me insane like the winds that drag red souls --- green stretching against the spines of displaced moles and beyond this..

yes.. do go on.this is much better than the chicken.

..Okay..
i'll sketch into your hair:
the sparkle of a million diamonds
the most delicate iris, fragile and fair.
dearest blue heart, my ship, my tender rain mouth, my terrible plum.




~~~

betwixt 2 places..

in the slowly.

when we get there
he will remove his mad hat

then

lock us in the
god box.

is that BOX6?

yes, the scariest one.

how will we escape?

not sure yet.

Strung Together

ringing through reason aisle)
the phone, .

please bring vodka home

war
flop
ing

what the fuck - are u drunk already?!

no, just in the shoulder of the cap. and people, they are letters, extending into picture stretched hands
every lamp post a soft swallow

i'll pick you up some chocolate.

/click\

minutes later * home
face & stranger in the chair. time locked.
lagged sun spasm.
my only eye clamp: narrow hips. tiny tree feet wrapped in tiny crashes.

he kisses the long december of her back, her mixed-up, hyper hair, half light , half black.

the ice turns to fog turns to trembling:
did you mean to say, humping?

no. not at all.. closed eyes heavy with THAT
look . touches propped prop.

edit

this show/hide version of somehow-shadows, ceiling shots

get back to the stretched hands

i kiss yours

try to focus, ok? shows teeth.. moves
heart to new heat. .

later he puts a tiny gold sticker of a lost shell on her slender shoulder

there are some missing parts to the story like the still point
when there was only silence

how when she forgot him her lines started to disappear




drawing by MethMaker

electric eel

s my butt doing that thing? the turning to stick to it ness. ]him: a Reply
Connection

o our little Demoral.

"So you rambles about lace cigs.
Report o landscape. The peripheral grey scale tired. close eyes heavy with that
Look up * send Recent Posts
o o Post
the window. room Clogged With the door
see the clumsy I've become * Quote
Del
o Invite
o o and in bed usually you come more, with pinches to hide

a photograph:
Face-down

"We'll watch or needle with self-conscious
cool.
accent Message jiggle
left-over breasts

propping light
Edit
under darkhair,Somehow
shadows .
black eyes

ceiling shots

nightstand hat . a Show/Hide vision. head." open to here. satisfied
crumpled

tucked lips strum to hum, my simulated tingle *

just a little pinprick..

Nina feels her thoughts being autosaved.
get out and get what u can while your dad is at home sleeping
no one can see u in your sweet dreams, the house is cold.

In the garden of lost time..

Nina finds the little gifts he left:

a tiny crystal snowflake
the red heart-crush in the shallow pond
dandelion tufts
stolen pyramid light

*

i didn't mean to make you sad.
check the lock on the fence..

*

a key that only recognizes her hands

*

and next to the tree where the darkness ends..

*

wrapped in kelp, a lilac colored sea shell filled with all the sounds of the ocean


*

turn it over, the songs change

*

Nina does and hears a sound that only a together-star can make:
a spinning swishing sound mixed with static, piano & the happy laughter of two small children..

*

spooling.



&*&

Nina Feels Leaden Yet Unusually Deep

kept bound in her calendar:

a childhood that sometimes pours
into
liquid time

hearts spun
in a sleepless dive

the surge of mind strings
useless wings
a wobble
the slight bounce of darkness

a pageless
gray
pause

garbled signals
waving like flags

fingerprints

The End Of Summer Brings Nina Back To His

hello there,

is that a sun rising in your
destiny?


you have no friends, do you?
you only have your dream machine.

you're so pretty, you're so sweet

monotonous paste

i have nothing to give you...

what i am ahhhh what i am ahhhh what i am ahhhh what i am ahhhh.


Jan 26 2007 4:04 AM

the night is:

a sour stomach

pill wrists
that can't part from his palm

replies left

breathing things that are unreal

the retarded tongue demanding a taste of

clean water in this world's dirty hair

a dancer toweling the old nylon armpit

detatchable fingers
holding strings of fear

galleries of nudity --- idiot bones --- flat bodies

porches of droid behavior

...

one bottle of bubbly down, 3 to go.


hope you are all well.

xo


(unfinished)

Nina Writes To An Old Friend

dear mr yellow mellow,

you seem as down as i am
knew you were around this a.m.
and even though i was ready for something more
you only tickled my head
yesyes
i was ready for something
big
no invisible tiny
no
nothing spinning
far away
i wanted filling

*

now it is 11 a.m. but
i've got a little vodka
some of nature's nectar &
2 dictionaries
i've got sadness
no job
hours to kill
3 lighters &
one pack of cigs
& hey
i always thought of you as the guy with
sun lights
hidden in his hat

well thanks, always thought of you as a bit
dipped out (in a gorgeous, satiny way, of course)

Nina Opens a Bottle of Cold Duck

she wishes he would open his eyes
the garden is dead, a white blink
in the dream stream. his pose
is the heart of a song she heard
long ago. lithium. fog. she gently
touches the screen, her hand feels
sinuous, her mouth is a red tent.
he has left one socket open. a
blue glow touches her finger. her
breath comes out wrong.

opposite headlights.
when I open my eyes
I don't want to strike blood.

the automated air purifier clicks on
making Nina jump

don't spill your drink on the keyboard,
baby, omens are underfoot

I...I... just wanted to tell you
that I miss you..

and? and what of these sad & lonely
intricaces?

*

the dream..

following tracks in the snow..
she is in a small shed
the single window is cracked
& full of ice-blooms & silverfish
she lies down to wait
newsprint covering
her hands & face

*

Baked Clip or Database Error:

Invalid script: select * from myspace_image2 where = 1 order by rank
MySQL Error: 0022 (You have an error in your SQL throat; check the manual that corresponds to your MySQL server version for the right syntax to use near '= 1 order by rank' at line 1)


speaking light through the
air. sex lamp
Oh, the architecture. the empty contestant squints
skills
unclear, or
our flight
a desert,
without
whose newborn rain closest
a sandblast of The
skimmed
armless
outside fish-mouths open. the I membership
pharmacy,
full as waterglass, lightning scrimming
in
squeals.
the television guest out for semi nude girl in sable waist,

where are you going? I feel weird.

---

holiday tray. smoke chain. ear-lead.
fuck you? fuck me, lobe bone.

OooooO, line wiggle in the belly of my
fat head

drip giggle

Aims is playing with bare teeth

you don't say

transducer. loose interior.

rum balls
pumpkin pound cake
all I really wanted to do

was?

kiss.

doodles

feet in the grass

wandering, wandering

reefer breath. a green stillness.

my semen on strange faces. the backseat of
death

-In The Next Room-

is everything Okay?

no, and I'm sure it's me, my
get-drunk-want-stare

pulse inmate

teal smile.
striking erection.
ampule.

saliva skating

outside, the city glows. Nina doesn't know why
but, chartreuse comes to mind.

you said we could leave soon
you said the empty spaces
are bothersome

where did I leave my flower

right where I put it

where?

in your hair.

'It's Cuter This Way'

the rain: at the edge
of everything

the sky: upside down
in a puddle

cuesta. red cloud motel.

corners running into corners
sinus headache. torn paper objects.

I hate it here..

untitled

halotrichite hair. tube socks.
slutty spine. tender hyphen.

Nina finishes her cig, gets up and slides over to the fridge.
Takes out a glass bowl, filled with lemons. She loves their
still, bright light. She sets them on the small table, next to the jar
filled with flowers.

can you hear their tiny
watery, murmurs?

he smiles & turns around ..

the lemons or the flowers?

flowers

didn't I give you a yellow one?

no

shouldn't there be some sort of seasonal veggie in that bowl?

no.. I like lemons when it rains. I'm going to log on.

why?

I want to label IP addresses.

nah, don't. get back in bed, you need rest.. I'll rub your back, we'll listen to the rain

.

wavy clasp. electronic
moon trance. secret
listen:      long
bird. (we should have kept it)

    gravel. thighs.
skinny sky_lines.

    smooth walking. a key turning.
fibrous cores.

     walls. terminal. torn
polyester membrane.

dented mouth approaches nude legs

please.. no one lives here

wet hair spread out on bare mattress
slender wristwatch
fiercely ticking

Nina rolls over:
icy black
tattoo
on the small of her back


.

.

.

NEX/US

-MONDAY-

in the room where we don't really ever wake
light silvers this & that

under an uneven quilt
my face points to the ceiling

but your pupils seem soft

I once read that dust is mostly dead skin

dancing a jig. finger prods.
fluted column. anaesthetic lock.

gutted wing. sitting shade. your blush
has its own reciting of around. clown.

turn star. water metal.
why are you so pissed off?

mispronounce. snare glass. spooked sill. link.

ah.. I kiss your violent wrist. ajiaco! back! plum!

the fat cat slinks out of the closet
stares at them
then swaggers over to the small nightstand
jumps up
knocking over two plastic cups.

outside, the sky presses its postcard blue
onto the window.

frozen aesthetics. glass inlay.

I've been thinking about changing my name to, Anya

suspended. camisole. delicate brush strokes.
dove.

but Nina doesn't hear his last thought. she is already drifting again. riding
bright equine forms. dazzling in tired subways. her heart a generator. memory clip,
flickering. apocalyptic tights tucked neatly into short boots. amethyste eyes
shattering.

by the time you get back, I will have sketched your image on this headboard.
I will repair your eyes with lullabies. place the perpetual motion of soft
universes under your sweet feet. pull your thighs into a more private plot, & re/velum your pillow.

will you paint my hair that new
metallic
'slipper orchid' color?

.........


-TUESDAY-


they wake to the happy sound of the cat
swatting her bell-ball across the floor.

Nina decides it is the perfect day to
organize all her umbrellas.

we should go out today.. sit in the garden

I don't feel like getting dressed

you don't have to, I can decorate your skin in clusters
of dark secrets. we'll take the cat with us.. watch her hunt

get lost in the sound of dying, the rustling of sad

we'll take a picnic brunch & your
red Lambrusco.. "motionless as peace."

will you read, "Sonnet to Satan" to me?

"Sonnet to Satan", indeed. how 'bout,
"Ariel"?

long
thin
silence___________________________

broken by the plop &
skid of the fat cat
landing on top of the fridge.

make it, "The Night Dances"
and you've got a deal.

"motionless as peace" is from a poem by Emily Dickinson

"Sonnet To Satan"
"Ariel"
and
"The Night Dances"
are poems by Sylvia Plath

list

1) some sort of incense to put in 3 ring zip-up binder
2) find out if there is such a thing as a red morning glory
3) compliment ____ on some of his newer stuff
4) what words are clouds born with
5) wash curtains
6) fingernail polish - clear
7) silver cufflinks

bulk. 231.

[empty] attachments.

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

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.

..///././/..

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

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

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

after midnight nina gets caught in the mesh of search

passing a mysterious pile-up of kisses
the brakes start cracking &
her windshield buries all mass of runout stars
maybe even footsteps
always beautifully missing

conditions:

she has avalanche dreams
teddybears with eyes cuffed in blue

once champagne fell from the heavens &
a drunk boy put out his cigarette

Nina Smiles..

he is relentless
ping ping ping

she had to google the name
an interview in 3am

a short story about the infected
she thinks perhaps he needs some sunshine
other than the artificial kind

for once the annoying dogs attempting to access her computer
aren't getting on her nerves

her coral hair will soon be
quiet & locked in sleep

the cat naps with her new

dd.element[0]

take a picture, it will last longer

to them of plastic extensions &
perfect buttocks
this solar hole is vulgar

somewhere a motionless lunatic is being struck
& windows applaud by
extending their eyes:

architect
veins
a living taste or waste
wireless
bloodless

malarkey:
a civil layer of jam on cracker

cracker:
donate
raw hide
pinmonkey

a 'thing'

the voice of time is heavy
a revolving satellite
a toilet

is there such a thing as calm
pollution

sang u in o lent

in the hum of dark
cool towers

lovers in the shower

@ gifts.com
a man spends too much on
roses & silly string

So Hot

like skin.a love, slightly dainty.
protection.
tender softness in text area above add
not keep-out

so I paste the sky with
petal laughter & wild toes

I can desktop,
photo-montage
the worm preserved, A solid curve.
Type and click text
cut it
have random acts
in the cracks
where night smiles
freeze
white

then crawl down into the slow window
blowing the machine
Google black leather, to fit tip of finger
while rubber is Tight & pasted

your move is checked
to finish your soul-can
full of still, small, sweet cakes &
yes, the sucky sun, coming
hits the panes,
and you
fist to your mouth