Get your finery on and let the games begin,
Does it look like you'd trust him?
Blackout suit, purple shirt,
indigo tie and crimson eyes.
Sly, slick, sardonic and wicked
wearing a gentlemanly disguise.
The dinner was alright
now get ready to fight.
White powder on the counter,
A dusted card and a rolled-up fiver.
Finish up your line
and get out there.
Codine chills as calm is instilled,
Colorful lights and relaxed thrills.
No chats so I'll settle for that.
A while later and we're back in black,
Now lets all get completely smashed;
Go hard or go home.
Messy nights never get old,
River of glass across a broken road.
Tonic wine is best served cold
though the medicinal properties remain unknown.
A bottle of B from Buckfast Abby,
Commotion lotion, blame it on the buckie.
Just the end of one other debutante night,
Staying classy while we drink and fight.
because we're Irish.
Her stained lips,
Red and incorrigible,
Polluted with lust,
Kissed a hundred men.
Her hands were gnarled like her words,
Profane and seeking.
Debauched were her fingers,
Mysteries hidden beneath her long nails.
Her legs were long and slender,
Wrapped around masculine secrets.
Men fell at her immaculate feet,
The thin, shapely waist
Filled with tantalizing, surreptitious tales.
Her heart black like her soul,
Her years young and numbered.
She was a dream,
The worst kind of a dream there ever was.
She was a nightmare.
Pushed down a flight of stairs
The word “asshole” is forbidden
But two little girls dancing, flinging their hair about
Zoom, zoom on developing breasts
I loved boys the best.
One, two, three, four
Enchanted and consumed in the world of my handy cam corder
I would hit record a thousand times,
Perform with me.
Like another limb, a lens could speak all the words I couldn’t say
Dialect so thick and heavy
Everyone was southern
I was so southern
I am so southern.
And the boys, they truly are gentlemen
Perhaps we are slow in updates
And it takes time to adapt
But everyone here tries their best to be friendly
Getting off of a plane
Looking around as if you have encountered another planet
And then slipping so fluidly, so simply
Right back into it.
But grateful to see things--me
Privacy is not frequent
In a house quite so big
But camaraderie and eloquent drunken conversation
Fill your heart
No matter how much you change your destination.
She applied the latest fashion tips to her lips
and put on the newest dress to cover the mess.
I held her as she swayed in front of the mirror.
"I want to get away from here," she cooes in my ear.
It rains ridicule as she tries to be classic cool;
storms that brew from within-
and there's no way of knowing how it'll begin.
She'll say that she's a succubus
but I promise that she's a star and thus
destined to implode but shine beautiful before death.
And I await to be burnt by her deathly breath.
She says that she feels detached,
I read the message that has hatched
from ten eggs thrown from a wrist.
Her lips are mine but all I do is miss.
Her lips aren't mine and all I do is this.
I kill time with new noise and old sights.
She asks if I'll be home tonight
and I wish I could because I'd clearly sway thee,
macabre debutante lover baby.
Her name is Tricia and as I whisper,
her cheeks blush.
"Don't break hearts or mine too much."
I could say the say the same for you, my Josh.
Couldn't we all break broken signs
with the love we reallign?
I tantalize her lullabies with eager hands
and lethargic eyes.
I shoulder her and press her near,
and kiss her from neck to each ear.
She slides hands and traces each crease.
She runs her hands as soft as fleece.
My hands hide in her underwear
and she says,
"How did you remove all of my air?"
She fixes her hands and grabs my base,
I kiss each corner of her face.
Stroking, stoking my desire,
I ask her to lay naked by the fire.
I disrobe and throw each cloth on ground.
Tricia takes off her bra and there is no sound.
Her breasts make me eagersome
and, suddenly, I'm no longer numb .
I tell her that if it doesn't feel right
that we don't have to make love tonight.
She walks and her feet kiss the tile.
She says she wants to stay for a while.
We get lost in blanket and the cloth is soft,
as we move from the fire to a loft.
I tell her that her lips are silk,
her chest plays songs,
and her taste is milk.
Her feet appear behind my head,
and she bites her lip until I feel dead.
I place my hand between her thighs
and listen to each moan and sigh.
I hear her shudder as I break her soil
and I feel my body start to boil,
as I push in and kiss her nose.
She throws back her head
as her mouth can't close.
I wake up and she's next to me.
I kiss her forehead to thank for harmony.
I pick her up and let her bloom in my arms like a flower.
And then I walk her to the shower.
Or a ripped
Pair of jeans
And the finest of wear,
If I look
As if a girl
A home, or
Some rich debutante
I'm made from gods own
Throne, I'm beautiful
Taken, I'm even better
Alone, I need no man
To complete what's gods
Time and the sea stripped gold from his face.
Caesar lay in ruins on a burning velvet bed
round him danced the debutantes and believers.
His sullen chamber lit by his burning velvet bed.
Through his window, mottled amber and blue
passed as shades long lost. All that remained
of Caesar, as gold was stripped from his face
now framed by a brilliant half moon;
A memory sent foreign on bitter tides.