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 Jan 2013 Tori
Aaron McDaniel
Others want to "pop yo' *****"
I want to pop the lid that hides your inner thoughts
Want them to wash over me
I'm showering in your personality
The you that you barely know
Help you discover hidden coves
Dump your anchor overboard
You've landed on the shore of the person you wish to be
Tap your heels three times
Wish to be home
Open your eyes
You're on that same shore
Scared
Thinking you're alone
Until my hand lands on your shoulder
Let's discover this jungle
 Jan 2013 Tori
Filmore Townsend
shiver'd awake,
no rain-guard on your tent.
beautiful to see the stars
when that drunk sends you spinning,
but it got cold. real cold.
the two of you went for
cigarettes. necessary,
after a blur'd night
with raiding raccoons.
****'d the night before,
****'d the morning after;
you were right hungover.
while gone,
i built the fire to cook.
(that fire,
that fire was my baby)
rations were raid'd
by wildlife in the night,
left were a can of
chili and some fritos.
knifed the top off can,
began breakfast.
your return brought
cigarettes,
hair of the dog,
excitement at the day beginning.
mention'd dog hair,
available only after
raccoon raids and sinking cans.
night prior we weren't
as drunk as i think.
i remember. i guess.
it fix'd us up, though,
as our immoderate breakfast hit home.
 Jan 2013 Tori
Filmore Townsend
CATO
 Jan 2013 Tori
Filmore Townsend
[ final, before flight ]
learnt through dusty feet
and stomachs growlin’ their
dyin’ growls. days and weeks
with leakin’ roof, and
nature’s bountiful army
marchin’ on and through.
candle-lit synthetic canvas
absorbin’ fired raditation,
*** upon baked ground
starin’ at drunken fire pit –
conversed two hours, and
with dawn one side meld’d
in the dancin’ orange and reds.
walk’d macadame, in full June
the tar bubbled to the surface
and patch’d holed soles –
surfaced skin, turn’d black.
graveyard of gypsum;
burnt out child’s playground;
horse protectin’ territory, or life;
pawnin’ everything not bolt’d down –
death of materialism,
birth of a ******* mentality.
bought Black-and-Milds so to
reroll a few cigarettes,
save wood tip for later use.
save everything for later use,
stash everything for later use.
stab’d in stupidity and
made to mend the wound with
worries of:
   will i use this hand again?
[ C ]
cryin’ for Annie, cryin’ out,
knowin’ she will return without
my concern. knowin’ she’s
probably rummagin’
through some neighbor’s house.
cryin’ out. cryin’ out.
lyin’ down on pallet’d floor,
gettin’ usher’d out so
she could ****.
[ A ]
mouse detectives on VHS,
an awkward glance at left –
all the signs, none of the glory.
misdirectin’ for no reason,
reappearin’ without reason,
disappearin’ for every reason.
[ T ]
road impart’d day’s heat
through all the night, and
moon lit unknown paths.
cryin’ out, peddlin’ faster,
carryin’ weight in
hope at final penance.
no penance.
[ O ]
an artist’s rush,
turn’d paper to masterpiece
with seemin’ lack of effort.
stole heart, keel’d in, cast off to
placebo girl in roomate’s bed.

- - - abrupt ending
 Jan 2013 Tori
L Smida
Her sneaky way of stretching your ear
And silently one stepping herself inside your head
Completely unaware of the puzzle she's building like castle walls around your brain
No matter the combination to your safe of hidden secrets
There she is
Surrounding you like a thousand knights to one thief in the dark eerie woods
Prying even more secretively behind the red scene
Twisting the rope of war right out from under your feet
Because your hands are already tied
No matter how determined you are
About keeping your hot hair balloon afloat
She'll squeeze you like a lemon to get your acidic confession
Her blood hound senses will sniff 'em out no matter what
And then lick up the floor to judge your statements
No chance of over looking the oder of guilt gushing outta your pores
Or the bashful heat boiling through your veins
And the shameful twitch starting in your left eye
But of course
Your attempt to stuff those emotions inside the false confidence of your jeans
Is only a clean wiped window for her to look through
She'll ease herself on you at this point
Knowing the mouse in the trap has nowhere to scurry
Her approach will stare deep into your soul
Very painfully silent
After a crucially long moment
The silence shatters with her first question of interrogation
And the weight of your balloon comes crashing down to the crumbly ground
Feeling broken and hopeless in the rubble
Laying limp in the muck like a wet noodle that has escaped the spaghetti plate
Drained of emotions
And exhausted by shock
The final announcement says the war is over
And the opponent has won
My attempt at a visual poem. My goal is for you to get plenty of crazy images in your head as you go
 Jan 2013 Tori
Aaron McDaniel
Kiss her down her spine
Sighs of frustration
Bare hips sway beneath white sheets

I am the cartographer
Mapping her desire
 Jan 2013 Tori
Jennifer
I lied about my age
I lied about what I do
I actually go to school
And.. I live in NJ

But I did like your dress,
And those curls you probably worked hard to perfect
Your makeup was impeccable
Complimenting every curve of your face
I was surprised you even talked to me
Oh and
I deleted your number as soon as I walked out the door
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