you

you are

you are a

you are a mess

y ou area mess

yo uaramess

y o u
a re a a messssssss
       you r mess
    ssem are you
me youss rae
e
    r   a
m   e
    s
y
    o
u       mess
    you
mess   are
  ss a r
e  e a me
e y
u      ar
me
you are me

of you there is me just a fraction
which though a fraction just does
multiply wonderfully spilling you
full of a hard incessant easy thrill

(a pink headed girl whose perfectly
folded hips are suds completely of
my hips eager to feel their droll hammer
)
  
                                                                        behind a restaurant
                                                                        murdered of thought
                                                                        she divides uncanny
                                                                        thickness a nice ******
                                                                        impetuous tattoo on
                                                                        her neck tastes like
                                                                        the rude blithe mystery
                                                                        of life performed in
                                                                        rhythmic cadence
                                                                        with just a fraction
                                                                        of me which just
                                                                        though
                                                                                       only
                                                                        a
                                                                        fraction

                                                                                     multiplies

i have always loved the summer who
walks through white splendor the hot
looseness of rough *** in a cheap motel
somewhere in Oregon.

T
  u
      m
           b l
               e stunning river. mouth agape.
spectral honey. cleanly delicious wet. all quivering!
a 1,000 times lapping sickly sweet fork tongue:
(amongst the roots claim your hollow sanctity
  
               )
i am under your dampness, you roll splendidly on my hips;
            hot valley
carve a quiet scream in all the dainty ruckus. tickled
pink soft stream.                            i
       drown
                     in    
                              thee.

ilike a littlefatsloppyugly, which about
tightness is folded cellulite, stretch marks
and screaming neon in flats (fingernails)
very short barely hair that almost doesn't
(still that easy clutched nicely pulls back

                violent feminine oral
                                                       )

head arched neck back choking *** tanned
just a bit like rolling thunders spilling tenderly
split thighs like ******* spit ache very slowly
break

                           (in my hands)

a finger knuckle deep


                                             (SuK)

when never i'd gone to nook in hiding the sun in their puffy titanic pale
the clouds of spring are not unlike the lips of my lover; whose splendor
grates in every and every her lazy exact muscles flush hunk of slippery
rough pink; she who art wholly more a softly thing than the big tangy
roof of spreading up over all the earth their guts of rumpled kissing
flesh the skin of my soul. which is not unlike a crust of furious dainty
cells basically cloistered knots of dna and a and nut in which is the
glorious **** of lovely symmetry that composes the entirety of her most
unfat blood corpulent sock of engorged radiating ***

.






























"What have you been doing these days?"



"Trying to become myself."






























.

"where were you?" i was the cooly over of mouth–the wind–
that beneath which chants of ***
incessantly

the world

in pink creases of easy Spring.

makes me to lay down
in waters of thistle
and hollyhock

the crude and sinuous
vehicle of sing.

i am a lot like sleeping laughter
in faintly room warmer windows
bound tightly with light's loosest
fingers mingling with the atomized
aroma of a basket of flowers dusted

                  just

with barely afternoon's short rumpled
heat glaring in through the slight
abrasion of sight I call my window
peeling with fresh strums of Summer's
fair cords singing me softly into the
palm of night's tiny hands

just i

     opening

            my soul
                          
                     oD
                        and
          drawtuo
                        fumbles
                emos
                        unbright
ecnecsednacni
                             some
                                       fuckhot

                                                    magic
                                                                 peeling
                                                                                out
                                                                                        the innumerable
                                                                                                                      jeer
                                                                                                                             of my
                                                                                                                                         and me
                                                                                                                                                        deepest

Rigid, unlike, softly, more like, she's coming a rough god riding the stocks of
bobbing withers robed in music. she's quick static spark sore tips of fingers
  just meeting with my tips of fingers just with grooves barely braying over
  one or the others me we sweetly are tumults of sparks raking ***** nails
   over backs pinions extend fully kissing free air and up into shaking
    clouds her minute jiggling abdomen i'm home there in between the beads
     of startling clarity and rush of sudden acute blissful angles (more like
      delightful swirling clutter, her hips are like) turning back and forward
       back and forward writhing sails of pleasure billowed skin her
        ultimate final tongue that staggers magnificently like a doe in the striped
         coat of furious tigers she has fanged jaws gently stabbing young
          blades my neck (a short column of stuttering electrons flickering
           against her blazing article of so unpure purely purring muscles
            slick and sinuously bound limbs an angelic fist's arm on my
             teeth suddenly flush with blood.
              
                         she is many
                     she is one
                   she is a multitude
                   she is a slight twist
                    to the hairs on the
                     the back neck   (of my)           .                  A
                                                                            neck meekly
                                                                           scratched with
                                                                              nails abruptly
                                                                        slaughtering quiet
                                                                       disheveled minutes
                                                                      in her merry cavern
                                                                                               wails

cream the soft you are is body
white

             shoulders


completely neat in kissing
easily blades

between muscles rigidly
tight and folding

                 folding


          and

fi


              n


     ger


                                s



yoursmine
teeth please too
a bit at least
because cream

the body soft

you are

is hurt nicely pleasant
and you know


                 (like i know)



pretty is pain

the day did weep and thus i bent my lips to its ear, whispering, "why do you cry so?" through crystal drips it chokes out, "because though i am born each morning i die each night. in infinite resurrection i am trapped. thus i never truly live" to this, i, having no reply, sat and cogitated

how i came by
this lush trickle of vocabular erupting passion
   i electrically shovel

  in
          digital grunts
i
   kno

                ,w
not
                                only
    

                   i           :T,s

HA'b,i:Tu
                       a
l l
          y

there(realslowlydancing)is feet
cast in leather sweating ankles
up with(firstcalvesdiamond
hardlittlesharp)a delicate feminine

barely in neon

and shook smoke swirling giggles

thighs;****,pink!hair:andPrickles of

tingling most

(and bet tight i her inside is cool hot throbbing) DeLiCiOuS

Into with,
my ***** of sated flesh(
your smallest mossy soil...

            I AM


DEepLy,  raw
a rough new pinkness
tingling steady burstsinthegrosspavillion
,of thy beat,
a fresh hot                


                                       noise

a twilight swelling limped the light so graciously
resplendent the chattering twill of laughter
purpled deepening
marked    his splendid death
the sun

.

































                              ­                                                                 ­                                                                 ­            ar

e


                                             ­                                                                 ­                              




                                                            ­                                                                 ­                               















                                                                                                                                                                  you awa








ke?

















































­














                                                  ­                          wake up.










































                   ­                                                                 ­                                                                 ­                          .

O creators
  O makers(O ye, who by hands deftest,
    hew the earth with thy hearts
      extrapolated)thou art blessed

           (and a blessing)

for by the imperfect notions of you
more perfect becomes me

             (in me gathers
              the coalesced
              intensity of
              your exact
              infinite stuff)and
                                             i
                                             'm thick with your heady music
                                             which bursts out my body
                                             and i'm flung into burning
                                             indomitable human fire
                                                  (and i become
                                                   like gargantuan
                                                   sleeping flowers(whole rivers of them)i become the
                                                   hot sigil of the human singing
                                                   *****)with drunk beautiful darkness
                                                   i sing across the folding eternal
                                                   abyss and with merriest volition
                                                   i add the coarse sound of my fracas
                                                   to the body of the electric people
                                                   chorus
                                                                 (the makers
                                                                                        and the creators
                                                                                                                      who by pleasing distinct
                                                                                                                      colorful blades scar
                                                                                                                      me wonderfully
                                                                                                                                                  )

i have the (deliberate) comely legion of summer marched through
in the lather of poppies;i fell sleeping with flowers from my skin
pulsing to reach the sun

                                               by stems fragile aching

                       LAVENDer

and



                marigolds 2

                                           were

                                                        there

                                                                   they
                                                                    had
                                                                     *****
                                                                       small
                                                                        voices
                                                                         but smelled like
                                                                          H
                                                                          O
                                                                        N
                                                                         E
                                                                        Y

.
















                                                                                    b










                                                                                    r    e                                                                                   a





theth

e s
l
o
     w

l   y
      steam

of
      some

halfish
twinkling
infinitely pale
evening

when
out of ****
languishing
darkness
lifts
terribly its
marvelous
trundling deep
cool




                                                                                     and





the when world was
it were a
pistil
o'
the bulb
of hushingly
crushed mutest
with drabs of hulking
orange imped to 'er
******* 'er
tongue
'nd 'er
arms long
went out
like the
sea goes
out
under the moon
it goes out rushing
faster than

lungs were
the there was
and
o'er
'em was

R i B s

(

         bump


                      bUmpy

                                       bumP

                                                     BuMP

                                                                        )ribs and



a pair o'
darling ****
with
o'er 'em
a neatishly intense
girl head
with lips
it
drank the
air
in swooning
tiny
heaps









               i









                                                       t








                                                                              S










                                                                                                                   P









                                                                                                                                                                    RUNG









from
'er face
it went like
a blade goes
sharply quick
into softly         I


and took
the 'er
it
the
blade
o'
'er
cutting
i
the mouth
and (in my mouth)
cupped her kiss
instantly
which lingered
more brutally
than

b

         r




                     e


                                 a






                  t



                                       he,




                                                    .



                                    
                                   '




                                                  ,





                                    .

iwasrapt
in violet awe
                                                   at
the shedding of her:
                                      careful skin
precise ellipses
                        p                 e
                           u         l
                              dd
                    in my rapacious palms
a fissure fractures ****** features
            (she:
the sweetest 20
                          i,ve
ever tasted)

awe in sometimes stillness is
the connotation of infinity
whose splendored temporal verses
snugly fold my mind
into the breathless divinity
of each careful line

you

put your

tongue

in
all
my

cuts

lick

i my lips have been

    (to fling across impossible darkness)



A kiss


a curling
a soft
a mouth
a such achingly
a stupid and.


Across feeble immortal night
a blade of light
might that it would
its cut to part
that inken hood


to sleeps where curl'd
in girlish winking pearl'd
your heart's body
to cup it in my pinken furl

and a bit of sting
by Spring of pollen
your comely wisp
deepishly to imbibe


lifting thy swollen stupor

(press back the leaden lid
  )

feels like, your mouth, i like it
little hot crushed
(wettest ember of thy face)
to mine, darling, your

hair

                     is immense

tangled briefly

with my fingers

against the excelling nub
of thy fragrant skull                dear, i

press drink and of, into

                                            my

i was driving the other day there was a short stop and a face was quickly past in an instant face
Was young blithe pastoral
imped with with the pleasant razor
of a grin face
was girl
With tiny darkly cropped few her
cheeks
had twin splotches of
fat rouge her
was lips
RED
glimmering

niTe?

do stars hang from you nimbly

dancing in breezes shook the

apple heavy bent boughs of

laughing gargantuan trees

                                            nite you are first me

                                            and secondly

                                            you are quivering with intense

                                            feverish quips of ladies

                                            so thick and exacting legs

                                            are completely tumbled open

                                            waxy perfect thighs

                                                                             (you are skinny limped

                                                                              skirts of light

                                                                              about the hair of forests

                                                                              you cavort with

                                                                              ***** sighs

                                                                              and you are so

                                                                              indescribably still

                                                                              even on balmy summer nights in the moment of an hour you are a park filled with me

and going about the beauty of your small adept

cheeks i do the terrifically kissing thing

and i love you

)

.































                                ­                     O
                                                      yOur
    ­                                                    mOuth
       ­                                                   issO
         ­                                                      hOt

               (inside it feels)

                                                sometimes­tight

                                                          ­and
                                                             ­                      O
                                                               ­                 it dOes

                             when

                                                  Springtim­e
                          
                                    ­                           draws 'er

                                                            ­               pretty 'ittle
                                                          ­                                
                                ­                                                                 ­    nOOSe

                                                          ­                                                    acrOss

                        
                           ­                             yer neck
                                                               (jerks)
        
                                                ­                                                             and parts
                                                           ­                                                  (wetly)
                                                         ­                                                     light

     ­                                                                 ­                                        and
                     ­                                                                 ­                        (life)
                                  ­                                                                 ­                                        intO darkness

                                                       ­                                                                 ­                            strays.

a tree'd grow
youth slapping
by my garage
and howl green
every noonight
i sleep awake the stars cuddling
                                         furiously
w
    i t
         h         my dreams

i have tasted the earth
who was a girl
whose body tasted of apple and spice
whose hair was the sea
whose lips smelled of frankincense and thyme
whose hips were a bay
flush with the wisp of spring
which are a tonic
that i am habitually to eat

sick f,lOu;rIshIng
                                         calamity by what abscess you **** hotly moisture
'pon the sticky damsel of
                                                   life
who art brevity greased                       or we argue

(scrawny tiffs) with god (who smells like nothings

yay though it be. still we are. if not only a morsel

a ****** dint of silence was bulbous in a long fettered common
that thrashed calmly hues of slippery wind
being largely small
the city chortled deeply
and it was barely exploding with rapturous clinging
a loose sheet of normal night
                                               ?

penny copper skinned waist thin girl as a
wrists
           that hidden
                                tiny trembling

                                                               : a river

blue
purpled

                   and really

        more

                          notcold

                          hot

                          that's

                          got
                          skin over it
                          golden brown
                          which tastes like
                          sunscreen
                          glitter
                          and a bit too much
                          hairspray
                          running
                          in fast rills
                          down your neckintomymouth

today the sun was in everything
shimmering without cease
with seamless jointless fingers.
the massive ginger
of his unfleshed hands
prickles (barely) necks.

i feel it. beating just behind that sheet. that sheet of light. that skin of time and flavor. i want to taste it. put my hands to it. but i never can. at the edges of perception. its silence is the loudest quiet.

i

i'd

like to (touch)

I i'd like to get 2 get (you)

i would, i,'d like to (touch);(you)

to k(no)w you
in a cotton land

white ground
white sky
strange
l-a-n-d-

you took me there and tore out my nos
but it's ok
i wasn't gonna
use
them
any
way

letters tiny and immotile                                                  
set stilling on pages from
hands letters sit and come
to eyes from stillness writhing
into minds parting; bearing
letters hither to wither
gorgeously and boughs on
strings erupting minute
whispers trundle down
and flitting hallways
do arrive and limp through
creases barely folds in silence
crawling to sheets tousled
and bent under the carriage
of eyes and letters tangled
again eyes and letters

tangled letters and eyes
(ink and bone together bound
    )less

of such it is to dream,
more dreamless nights to become

that fleeting which
like a breath escapes

into crystalline diminishing
and the loose tightness
of October.

i were left to impress upon myself the medium of hips
where in was yours, the aptest sliver of
feminine hotting spark
                                                 and after
in rigid slumbers mortar
she was more astonishing
than gods first light
he said
once
(and it was
) so?

.



                                                                                 you're
                                                                               all1
                                                                             1sweated out collection
                                                                           of ink and flesh
                                                                         i love that quivering
                                                                       that smell and quaver
                                                                         that pile of thighs and
                                                                           lips.they snarl and fidget
                                                                             under the corded
                                                                               symphony o' me
                                                                             and stifled nocturne
                                                                           fast and rushing slowly
                                                                         down your neck and cheek
                                                                       crumples my pink set mouth
                                                                         from which i breath
                                                                           a corpulent giddy roar
                                                                             into your pond
                                                                               scattering across you
                                                                                 such ripples
                                                                               dearly i
                                                                             do that
                                                                           totally painful beauty things
                                                                         (a doe thing pretty
                                                                       which like you
                                                                     is just)

who is more nothing
his hands in weakness(halfsmall grinning)
slightly

parting on a cigarette
brinded by
a tree shade

he skinny
his arms
toyish
mewling
to cup in
their crooks
a drop
of the sun

and
be

        warm


     againitisWINTER)

a short america is gruffly and shouting with the britain who's is owns the metal caffeine *** dull and shiny they suckle about and like to rambling  about the weather and the whethers and they clump to safely dryness by the wall at the little under of the eave plunking out the serious angle of its chin walloping the rain and makes a pleasant patch. they 2, the america and the britain, spitting at each others ears their voices they like to hear

it hurts too loud
my teeth
the grinding
and ****
sound pretty
when


                  GULP!!


about your throat
my fingers
fit nicely

ybab em rof tips(on it baby)

and cute the slightly
tearing of you
cotton in neon

freckles apart shaking
little brown
legs,.!

these hands of mine

so much strength

these hands of mine

create?
destroy?

these hands of mine

shade in spring, shakes,
dance, quivers
shivers a little bit
between your shoulder
blades touches
real light
its lips
where
draws a nice
beautiful ecstasy
and an
apple
red
eaten lays
destroyed
at the pretty
pastel flakes
of your toenails

.                                                                              i)know(you
                                                                          
                                                                                      )are hands gently
                                                        
                                                                  buckles and zippers
                      
                                                                                                      gniodnu(them
                                                                           and me
                                                                                                 you're
                                                                       )brusque pink
              
                                                                                                     (rinds
                                                                        slippery
                                                                       d
                                                                       o
                                                                       w
                                                                       n
                                                                            my chest
                                                                            
                                                                                                             and
                                                                                   they
                                                                    
                                                                                                        part over
            
                                                                                             em)and i
                                                                      
                                                                                                    !

toothick
a( song of roses bustled from her throat
                                                                     )
       sort of dangerous song
the sort of thickly dangerous music
that accompanies pianos
(and thighS
                  and *******) on saturDays
when you don't expect at all to find at all that sort of skinny innocent danger
thickly burnished sheets of heaven
in your b     e      d
               (H     A)!

this whole self
1 thing: i
so richly
in language
sinewed
will to say
a flower

a fully
uncoupling
hot bud
and i am a
season
(like Spring is)

i am a spit of
verdant boiling
fire(and i open

my chest

and out
ruptures

petals,

   .
       ,

   ,

i love the slender branches singing and the sun crisping the disheveled songs mixing in the wind's palms. shatter softly sunlight on the meadow of my flesh.

it was the velvet of the cool light. tugging on the dark sun. like singing the nothing touched every ideal and came whispering to the flowers. and


                                    BLOOM.