“sweet nothings”

just cuz
u ain’t nothin but squiggly
magnetized
but
the chili was good
so was the cake gun
haha dirty pun
okay this is a poem crash
i have a toothache but am still
going in to work
i’ll be thinking about u
consuming all that pretend sadness
i’m wise to you now
you’re just a baby playr badass

"bad romance by lady gaga (or the disco-stick song)"

so u took a sip from the devil’s cup?
probably more than one sip
knowing u
a god for a few
just reach in the mirror
and pull out some new lungs
i know you can read my poker face
& that’s a damn muddy shame
on camera all my spells look the same
but back to you, yeah i just read the other day
you’re not even suppose to wash jeans
seriously
look past the rivers
for
the ghosts wearing masks and

measuring cups

“no lentil soup for you, davy crockett”

my computer automatically nets the tweets u delete
and i tap this virus like love
sweaty matters:
u want to suck that cross-eyed
hatchet-banged bunny tit
but u cain’t
so here
chew on some meatloaf
and then we’ll
trim your mustache
so i can see / taste those
chapped
lips

"TITLE"

in my mind i am already putting up art in our groovy house
pic number 1: us kissing on a beach of black sand

all lyrics say the obvious
like: snow boy chin spoon
but the www be breaking your head
i’m thinking he looks drunk sitting at that schematics machine
and all that had been purring is fried
again

that would be a problem
we could smoke weed but never drink

but back to decorating
back to the flower bucket filled with ghost
back to the wall were we would grow a misty pavement of
i’m sorry and goodnites and dancing i-luv-yous
forgetting to brush our teeth
my lazy baby python
i’ll slather my Bath&BodyWorks all over you
and put your hair in a pony-tail
whip
your lips
with kisses

found poem

I love when you stop talking to me

And I hope your answers

“ hands u a new S T Y P T I C P E N C I L”

i don’t have a cell phone
remember
i only have ulcers and high high high
blood pressure

oh, the haha of dancing thru infinity this fuckin sober
would be alright
if it were in THE fka body
and the wind from a nameless painting
were to sculptor me a new jawline
&
u could snip off jowls with singing blades

watch out
i bite
plateau of cat breath
definitely lips etc.
if i still have teeth
on the roof at midnight
so come on
stunt man
your tears hang
from my fingers
like sleep

what do you do when your years are up
i keep running down diamond lanes
in dirty socks & glass lipstick
headin to Wyoming
i guess

"STUCK"

i hate when u go missing
& only leave me this damn car
with the eye of the ghost
dangling from the rear view mirror
and
i stick 2
the plastic
seat cover
all gentrified (lol)
u know
i’m so over the bf drown (he was a cry-baby)
i’m historically happy now
even though i know
blue skies have symptoms
& those wingless angels want to run our names
into a snow bank but wtf
come back out
we’ll steal another car - eat cake -
put a mini Minotaur on the dash