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Waverly Oct 2012
The cat
followed me
in the door
last muggy night.

on a return trip
from a beer run,
Kurt heard a yowl
as screaming as any hurt guitar,
and looked under his volvo
into the far dark.

Two canary eyes
leered.

Then,
slinking,
the canary eyes
moved.

And this cat
rubbed its body,
the length of its shivering spine
along my
small shins.

And that cat
followed me
in.
Waverly Sep 2012
I put you
over my shoulder
like a spooled
rope.

Twisted too many
directions,
a little tug
and you might go
anorexically
thin;

too taut for me
to yank anymore.

And when you come to me
drunk,
a *****
of yelling,
I think of those times
when we sat close together,
barely touching.

In those days,
we were both drunk
and bitter over forever.

Beers chased liquor
over steeples;
we dropped dimes of pain
over smoked ****
and bleeding anger.

Time languored,
and eventually
or anger
stymied.

When you cried
twisted beyond
compare,
I held you close,
sniffed your hair.

People hurt each other because they can,
and we lay
on a mattress of your canned hopes.

I would never be a prince charming,
even when I groped
you;
when we were tossing each other,
fighting like ghosts do:
bad jabs,
quiet knives,
softer moans.

So, I curled you
over me;
beneath my earlobe,
as your whistled tears
drained energy.

Our synergy was syphoning
each other's
pain;
coiling nooses around our hearts
and kicking out the chairs
holding up our underneath souls.
Waverly Sep 2012
Loves
meek-mongerers,
calls when there's
no alcohol left:
no more balling
today.

****** on you in the morning
and walks out the bathroom
laughing like a pig.

A response
and a beginning,
now in a blanket,
my blood boiled when we were closer.

Had so much fun,
those times,
when love
asked you to stick a lime between
your teeth
and pour salt on her *****.

Cats howling at night, right
outside my window,
and I call and call and call
a whole bunch,
until every single one
asks from the brawling fence:
"you still talking about that ****?"

"get off her."

"she's not the one."

"no need for all of that."

"keep it chill."

And they still--don't know.
Waverly Sep 2012
Bit down,
****** up tongue.

Little eavesdroppers
run from my windows;
pretentious *****
go vegan
as the world turns;
coffee ***,
cigarette ***,
love ***
all become one;
a lot to say
in the moment 'fore the big bang,
but daddy forgot to pull the trigger,
and
none of us are on the run;
nobody loves me;
nowhere to go,
no-one to be.
Take it.
Be ****** by it.
Love it.

Take that *** of despair,
bite down,
rip away the ******,
and **** up your tongue
on all that up-chuck
because if you don't
you're the one that's getting ****** up.
Waverly Sep 2012
Night starts
with a drip,
and roaches move your feet.

But when day comes,
it comes.

Fear is
as good as sunshine,
it keeps you lose,
then tight.

The Jamaican bones,
having been ground into
sugar,
are whipped into coffee
and grey goose.

A mouthy mix,
and it seems
to cleanse the whole earth;
cannibals praise the lord
in all of his glory.

And on the way
to the first day
of forever,
the iron in my blood
clings to my gums.

I know you there
on the highway,
as we both drive with our
heads downwards,
our evil hearts
cuddling cowardly innards.

Press your fingers,
dismember what lingers.
Crack those knuckles,
smack those palms
and blow that screaming bone.
Waverly Sep 2012
Today drunks got up,
on an upended axis.

And wobbled
on driven souls,
driven to ****
and let the hate loose.

A drunk walked in mud
to work,
and his boss sported a smile
of sad pride.

He had done a great job,
and no one knew.

When they were sitting down
on the couch,
cracking the air with laughter,
the country man
looked up
and saw
a daughter of light on the floor,
slitted through the blinds.

He wanted so badly
to cry.
But didn't.

An imp limped
upstairs
and down, back again
to the basement,
and his old ma
heard him sparingly.

So much happened to day,
so beautifully
sad,
clear, and azure,
that the masks
of nails
spiking our faces,
slowly wore down
against steel skin.

When the sun went down,
aching for pain again,
they took the first swig,
then a second.
Waverly Sep 2012
My teeth feel like plastic,
and I'm
going
hungry.

Today, is the day,
that I become a man.

Don't you know
I'm freaking?

Or did you think
the biggest control
was the one at your knees?

When I finally get out of here,
all the cardboard in the world
couldn't box me.

Punch me Love,
make my nose bleed.

I want to take it;
I need it my brutal valentine;
from you to me
I have nowhere to go;
you are desperate.

We are holy creatures,
and don't even know it.
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