Curt A Rivard Sr
Curt A Rivard Sr
Dec 24, 2012

It was a hot summer day and freshly hatched flies
darkened your massive window bay.
Inside your decaying bloated carcass
millions of larvae are eating your flesh
they are eating you slowly away.
Your room had such a rancid stench
The New London Day gave it away
how long you laid all alone on the floor
four days old it was on your piano bench
out your body bag I saw a single fly take flight
in the embalming room that only leads to a big fight.
Rule is, turn out all the lights and open the door
Because they will then take to the air and bother you no more.
For a perfect viewing you must be purged of your infestation.
Step One, hook your nostril to a rubber hose,
Step Two, turn up the pressure so the water flows,
Step Three, push on your chest to break up there home, I call it their nest,
Step Four, Watch them all swim for their life as they exit out the other side of your nose.
I have a fetish for death I need to touch with my bare hand
slowly combing your hair with my fingers strand by strand.
I take out my Sterling Silver Mirror and then place it upon your frigged lips
and then I have to then put on a plastic frown when I see no BREATH!!!!

wonderful antohily
anthology . meat metamorphosis
a door for this place swings open shut wide with a rushing wind
pushing force of key stroke  a brain hemorrhage . wonderful fireworks in the head no one will ever see except you when you
close your eyes for a brief moment in disbelief at your Own weariness . vision wavering :::

                             pen line
                             phen pine
                             Phone Sex
                             Prone Neglect
                             Provost email strife

looks like city scape side ways .
a book shelf or colon : running through remains of your meals .
why act this way when An entire field of blossoming tragedies
await your lying death.
they build plush caskets for this reason purposefully . carrying you on like a doll in a wood working
shop .
the walls of city are built with the ore
of another planet
for the primitive explorative purposes of none other than the needless forth war .
some kind of crusade, they said, "a revival of the spirit". i am a desk. you write accident when your pen slips the page .

gray moustache mingling
Kitty Parson
Kitty Parson
May 23, 2013

Under a receding hairline
His blue eyes charm me
gazing up to meet mine
gray moustache mingling
with my silver pubic hair.

my moustache
Terry Collett

Kissing
just

that small area
of your naked

shoulder,
my lips

just touching,
brushing,

your skin warm,
smooth,

my moustache
tickling

you to laughter,
settled you

to ease
for sex after.

BOY AND GIRL IN 1970.
use God knows my face can't grow a damn moustache.
Camps
Jan 30

I gave my dick a soulpatch
Because God knows my face can't grow a damn moustache.
Look Mom, I shaved against the grain;
I can't believe it's baby smooth all over again.

of my face. her blonde peach fuzz mini moustache tilts left and kisses false worry, char
tread
tread
May 20, 2013      May 20, 2013

glasses 'you look beautiful'
her teeth are a little yellow, she
brushes in the morning. somehow
they're still a Colgate white. she mouths
Iluvu eyes squint quiet smile arches it's
spine and finger caresses the barely stubble of my face. her blonde peach fuzz mini moustache tilts left and kisses false worry, charisma. she takes
it as insult when I read line about peach
fuzz moustache. obligatory insult shes a
woman, women don't have moustaches
haha
she stretches like a resting cat and
returns to thought as my suicide
hangover crunches into a headache of
blind relief

relief

with a great triangular moustache,
Asia Marquette
Nov 16, 2010

I met a man today,
with a great triangular moustache,
and a carpet of a beard,
with a little fracture for a mouth.
Bewildered eyes and an angular posture.
His brutish stomp (thunderous among the sleepy books) was awkward
and solitary, constantly echoing his pathway.
I met a deaf man today, blissfully unaware of the
weight of his footsteps.

sp;with a finger of hers she traces the moustache drawn on his visor.  I like t
Barton D Smock
Barton D Smock
Nov 21, 2013

the mother beside him pulls disease like ivy from the wall.  he puts his glove where her breast should be.  with a finger of hers she traces the moustache drawn on his visor.  I like this scene because I have kids.

the moustache
Barton D Smock
Barton D Smock
Aug 2, 2012

one mother
beside him
pulls disease
like ivy
from the wall.  

he puts his glove
where her breast
should be.

with a finger
of hers
she traces
the moustache
drawn
on his visor.

I like this scene
because I have kids.

 
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