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 Aug 2013 amanojaku
JL
Molly
 Aug 2013 amanojaku
JL
Beyond dilation scuttle eyed pin hole magnetic stigmata
I swear if you rub red the right way it scores points with the Almighty
Crystalized She used to run around with ***** fingers
She was made in a bathtub
Towhead floating face up  

Like a deep breath doll laugh goodnight
I'm balanced hypodermic in the chamber
Reading from the black stenciled numbers 100cc
Here is the end's beginning
A brand new case of rigs
She's dancing on the counter
Dancing in my head
She's won't let me sleep
And my dreams become electric
25% oxygen not counting waste
Or the tingle on the back of my throat
25 seconds until we reach the half life Wear the dunce hat.
Bruised arms  
and a 90% isopropyl bath
Two weeks non sleep
 Aug 2013 amanojaku
JL
I am king of cart b4 the horse-intrepidity in the golden silence
But I am also a little white rabbit.
I sit
Upon the solitude waiting to find meaning
And just then my old friend walks in

His name is Robert but that is unimportant
He once sold his furniture for blues
And his wife was not happy when she got home
From hot vacation

This is none of our buisness
But she whisper whisper anyway
Until her words trailed off
Sobs

Old Robert came to work today
You see he did my job b4 me and you know that he could do a much finer job than I.
Much finer.

You see he slept alone in a twin bed sweating for weeks
He he he
Ha ha so much sweat to get off the pills
But he couldn't take the old sick, poor rob
His bones ached


He looks at me
As if I were a river rat heaved soaking wet upon the shore (sober) before his feet
Heaving for a breath of that **** air
I'm no better than him
My bones felt like they were froze solid once
And I had thick nightmares  so vivid
I once climbed up on that horse
It was not so easy to climb down

His wife said goodbye
And his two little girls played in the back seat
He didn't care because he had Ace on speedial

He played good guy
Mr. Clean but that saying about:
Once a ******
Until she let him sleep on the queen sized matress
Next to her again
His little darlings lie awake reading by flashlight



Here he stands before me
And I am tempted to ask for a hook
(Just one ******* dilauded is that too much to ask just one come on  ive been really good I deserve it djdjdksksndjajam ndiejsoskzndjdkskabxhiencbcnrjrjfnrjeisn ego)
He shows me how to do my job the right way
You have to do it like this
Like this like this like this
******' geek I will punch your lights out
As if u would feel it eh?

His pupils were too narrow to fit a pin through
And his hands shook
The old wonderful itch
Oh YES!
Here and there
Upon the neck
The back of the knee
The bicep etc.

I could see it
I could smell and taste the old life on him
The familiar buzzing that seemed to dance on the end of his hair
A fresh track mark on the top of the left hand
I am no better than rob
But he is better than me
I hate him in my heart a thick cancer malignant spreading as rainclouds
Through the soul

I love him brother lets go to south beach and buy out Ace
And I love you. I want to climb inside oblivion and **** me
my father winks and shares that his shadow has lately been in a dark place.  he means to throw a baseball but forgets.  he secretly hates any book that says simply how a man enters a woman.  when he shrugs his shoulders I imagine his arms are the knee socks my mother tugs then clips on the line.  this brings me to a painting my mother abandoned herself in because of thunder.  in the painting she is either swimming or for some other reason face down.  not in the painting she has her mother’s eyes with which she can see herself pregnant with her mother’s belly.  father winks again and says he speaks for my mother in telling me nothing I don’t already know.  a list of curse words I repeat underwater.
 Jan 2013 amanojaku
N R Whyte
a white white round witch
ice witch
ice white round which witch white ice

a black bleeding bleeder bleeding flat
black and bleeding
bleeds black and blackening flat

a white ice witch bleeds flat round black
 Jan 2013 amanojaku
Sophia
let's put it to january,
he says, by way of explaining
some unfinished thoughts.
and it has been a month
of unchecked cold,
of isolation, icicles, and heavy, broken
bones.  it's been hard to even lift
a pen, let alone
put it to paper.  

last year, we knew how to talk
to each other.  he wasn't sad yet and i
was still defiant, and our shared glances
were not furtive, but warm.  we knew how
not to talk to each other,
sitting side by side and breathing in
companionship and breathing out the cold.  
i knew how
to be read to, and he knew how
to read, his voice melting
the passages down so i could drink them,
digest them,
and sleep.

lately, though, we're afraid to be alone.  somehow
we are no longer breathing each other in
but are breathing next to each other instead,
hands in our pockets for fear of what they'd otherwise
do.  we are sufferers of curiosity but not quite
longing, and the silence between us now is not intimate
but tense and weighted, a measure
of time and distance crossing axes
at some invisible point.

so we sit across a wobbling table
from one another, helpless in the face
of conversation.  he politely shifts a chair for me
and in the process spills my scotch.  
january, he says again, and shakes his head
and looks down into his half-drunk
dollar beer, avoiding
my half-awake eyes.
 Jan 2013 amanojaku
L Curley
I am not well suited
To existing in silence
White sheets in plastic bags
Absently turning printed pages
Scrolling through screens
I find nothing

No, I am not well suited
To these silent hours
That I fill restlessly
With hopeful solitude
And shivering despair
All to find nothing
But old flaking paint
And old mistakes
 Jan 2013 amanojaku
A L Davies
last night i almost
gave up thinking of bronzy brazilian girls
perspiring pure coconut oil, eau de margherita ;
supermodelas eating my dreams like concord grapes, lionesses
lounging on new york balconies, lithe, reading céline.
(esti ginzburg, on the phone, considers another pomeranian) .
almost stopped.
almost derailed strange vogue-like fantasme of irina shayk, standing legs planted
left knee out-****** and foot
in ebony heel, cocked against the earth.
set being imitation of gloomy coal mine, east of prague. thin arms firmly controlling the
arc of her pickaxe, clothed in leather, high heels;
sheen of sweat holding her feline body in sweet embrace.
imagining that when shift's end buzzer echoes thru the tunnels she smokes a cigarette
on a bench in the women's locker, apple planted on old planking, elbows on her knees.
cover-alls peeled
down to her waist and her hair,
free at last.
(click)
on the tram back into the city all the smoked glass
cartier storefronts pass by like polaroids held in the hand. the same speed.
giggling, 'rina thinks of the six she could place
along her arm; gilt gold, brushed silver, diamant...

there are 11 smoked belmonts by the back steps; i did
little with the night. (tall shadow of a woman in a black dress and my mouth
a cotton ball)
that is to say:
i did almost give up thinking about bronzy braz ilia     g rls ,
-
but i didn't/and so there's nothing else.
'some girls' (insp.) / kanye west taught me a lot about supermodels.
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