if i should die tomorrow lady
then tonightlady
let me sleep in the tight plume
of your thighs lady
let me lay them apart lady
and i will enter between them
waifish pillars elated
a rolling vibrant howl

It's 3AM and all of the streetlights are flashing,
Yellow, Yellow, YELLOW,
like they have the same fever I do.

I believe that streetlights are a subliminal form of messaging,
just letting me know, that all of the communist party members
of China are actually martians. But most nights they usually just
complain about how ***** they are. And as I pass underneath
I tap my accelerator in a sympathetic way, that says
I know man, I feel your pain, and I think,
he doesn't even have hands to help him out.

As the distance between us grows
I also long, for a companion to help
discharge my capacitor.

I never put away all of these socks,
there's just something so final about putting away
all the socks. When I close the drawer after putting away
the clothes, its like saying "remain here for awhile,
for I do not plan to wear you again for some time".

But putting away all of the socks
is like saying "stay here,
I'm not going anywhere". What if
something pops up though?
It gets cold, a friend calls
with exciting plans and I must say,
"No sorry, I just put away all of my socks"

Whats the point in putting them all away if I just
go right back and take some out? Might as well
leave a pair or two by the shoes, at the ready.

Plus whenever I put away all the socks
I find the stragglers, the lone socks, the swiss socks,
the worn out ones and then I have to make difficult
decisions. Weighing the severity of the tears against
how uncomfortable they'll be. Designating indoor only
socks and how many more wears a sock can receive before,
garbage. And every time I put on a sock like this I shed a tear
because socks don't receive burials. Socks are easily replaced.
It's just not worth the trouble to put away all these socks.

That looks
like
violence,
but he wears it so
proudly and
I find I like the way
his hips
swing
almost like he has a
purpose when
everyone else has lost
or not yet found
theirs.

6 o clock dandelion
fluffy wish wand fairy dusters
filled the fields where
wild flowers fizzled
over a rough green sky.

I     m a d e                       turned
               it to               out         ju    
30 tonight
                is                     st         balder
all that I've                      dash?