Behind the sweetie shop,
under the reproductions,
Leonardo, Botticelli -
Dark haired girl in shorts
hides the softness of a rabbit in her heart.
And across the stone wall,
love is riding a
borrowed bike.

- From the grey as sky jackets,
From the strange eyes...
I'll remember you

Cinnamon, dandelions and rain.
Sundays silently glittering walls.
Dark haired girl in shorts
drinks coffee and herds dusty tones.
And across the stone wall -
summer street
and souls bound.

- From the trembling fingers,
From the hats -
I'll remember you

The wall is a universe stuck in inertia waiting to explode and
no one minds.
My underwear is white and full of **** and
no one minds.
The lamp-posts lit a show of dancing dust, the ticket’s free and
no one minds.
A boy thought that the moon looks sad tonight but his mother
does not mind.
A jeepney driver drives so fast he
lost his mind.
This is the tenth line of the poem and
everyone forgot
that there is a wall and it just exploded.
The ruins of the wall stood like a poem.
Oh, never mind.

I stared at my nakedness in the bathroom mirror
And all the dips and curves my lines made
And I tied my short hair down to my head
(I am womanly
I am smooth
I am strong)
My belly protrudes with the secrets of the world
And my ******* hold the prayers of many
(I am warm
I am rough
I am weak)
My hips carry the children of the night
And my lips speak the words you are so afraid to say
*(I am here
I am there
I am gone)

You call it righteous and holy to judge another's love
Then you try to justify it as the word of God above
And as you ridicule your peers they cheer you on
Leaving him or her wishing they were dead and gone
Yet still you continue screaming out queer and ***
And it wears down on us until our shoulders sag
But still it is thrown in waves that persist
Until one of us tie a noose and slit our wrist
Then you ridicule us still calling us week
When safety from your words is all we seek

There is a girl in my French class
And she is beautiful
And she is lovely
And I want to be her

This girl in my French class
Has perfect eyebrows
Has perfect lips
And she is beautiful
And she is lovely
And I want to be her

There is a girl in my French class
And she is interesting
And she is smart
Has perfect eyebrows
Has perfect lips
And she is beautiful
And she is lovely
And I want to be her

This girl in my French class
She is wondrous
She is talented
And she is interesting
And she is smart
Has perfect eyebrows
Has perfect lips
And she is beautiful
And she is lovely
And I will never be her

No, you're wrong.

Everyone is as beautiful
as they can possibly be

Particularly at lunch
in a laughing restaurant

Everyone is as beautiful
as they can possibly be

And they are moved
by their own beauty

And they shed tears for it
in the back of the taxi home

He opens his Star Wars: A New Hope lunch box
Inside a hippies dream.
**** in baggies that have the superman symbol
And Batman symbol on them
Tabs of LSD
And molly.
Hunter S. Thompson would have a field day

©Gambit '13