he seems a man particularly a man
particularly of a fat acne face splattered
erratic blemishes. to about the grunt
of his flaring nostrils long haired spouting
mouths
              , he's splunking waddlinglittlesteps
hithe r wi th e r (the bookstore's a most
quiet almost quiet almost noisy noisy quiet
steps fading rushing
aboutaboutabout
the isles the aisles the offwhite ravished pages
noiselessly disheveled bang

"by the way," i thought, "you looked real nice
pierced (thigh barb) by a." mouth that should
instantly lingers

                                   down your hip
                                   on its bladed heap, my wholly *****
                                   love stands on end

leans more steeply into them and like vague
intense teasing tenses at the scalloped fringe
of madness, stings soft pink lipped rivers of
gasping(fingernails in my                                    shoulders)in yours

an army of smallsharp, agilemuscled, and into colored
chips of searing spend a long
ruddy

                 scratching

think: what muscles
(the heart's
are stronger) often

they coil in distinct
perfume of girlness; soften

(fiber upon)

and weakness easily
becomes:


think

health so clean, nimbly bright, in pink
and florid skin
(pale in pieces)
                           tight of

                           muscles

a body completely the smoothest cotton
in an old pair of underwear
breathes so neatly small
and tastes like young neck sturdy washed
in newmorning's
                                  hand

because, "*******?" a black eyed
two tonguer
with: from svelte stoic lips
spat
an ember(glowly softer)
on the ultimate
cigarette's girl
behind face stood

a pair of **** squirming
minutely gorgeous, their
body was "maybe," and, "in about an hour."

masterfully composed.she's a twinkling savant
of gently murdered stars

    the eve

a girl in fornicating hues drunk and limp of life
and breathe

                       stunning decay

i like your skin

some harts through forests dappled lope
gentlest
keen feet
rumple leaves
scatter
or trees unspeaking sing
with the fat incurable
lust of sharp
lovers sore
                             hands
fingers
            nuzzled
                          against

the fair muscles of arched
backs wriggling muscles
so sudored magic muscles
viscously
o'er
the pretty spines of
roots
splendor
splits and

out bursting
harts
through loping forests
lovers sorely
hurt with crisp intricate eyes
looking
lean raw eyes
wide into omnipotent pain

sordid silhouette
sing sigh's
savage  grace
tongues akimbo

a pink laughter booms over silent cloudy grays

(the day's sister
was all the same
differently purple
in that way which
so is the night)

in such was the straight little pickets
onebyonebyonebyonebyone
marching in oscillating
still



-ness

i think. i think the trees are thinking.
i think
     the
tre
        es
   a
   R
e      thinking        

                                      OCTOBER
                                       ?

they say death. and they wear it. and they ware it.

                 and.

it's yellow talking on the gnarled limpets breathing
from their bruising trunks. suckling my apt pupils
         discharging lovely decay in my small
pocket of teeth and thoughts and veins. they,re an ******
   of crunching golden mort
  i walk through its delicious corpse
       and i take her.
      i take here. this is:

                YES

how came thy to thee? thou who art tantalizing(the champion of slender
******(
               art thou intricate and feared mostly of death?
fear not, thou who doth gestate sumptuously and fair in the dumb
fickle knot of my lazy arms. see serenity blood surely fierce of my tangled
morbid odor; claim its ardor with loathsome gross pleasant fingers and
comb the destitute morals therein which is panting a muzzle supremely
nuzzling my flaccid dearth of voltage.
      i know thee sweetly my goddess of sweat
                                                                                 , pain

        ,       and shearing passion and fear nothing

                        i       am        
  
                   splendidly         stitched in your fabric

   and we'll rot together.
                                           .
                                        .
                                          .
                                      .

                                            .



                                                            .

fists curled gently
i unfurl thee
i splay thee
and on your spans
i blow a cool color
from whence is
produced a whole
cuddling aroma
and about the
freckled *****
of thy noblest
raiment (the sun
and moon) i
coil it upon
and bless it with
the smarting dress
of my cheerful kiss

city winter waiting
short haired trollops
you gathered flocks
husk the abrupt
crumbling stones
of knowingthings
houses
where frail men
wear words
(but you septum
pierced cuties you
're so candy
in your skinny thighs
leggings
you keep sweat
trapped in your
skin
and i just want to get it out)

morning
you cruelly who
in lust Springfully come

your mouth wet
feels in dew lathered




uncurling

brutish





pinkat
the fringes
cool steaming
in the jeer of rounding light
pierced at the aperture of closing
darkness by a ***** of slothful mounting earth upon earth

by keen edged light do slice and fray the knotted chord of sanity
shed miraculous logic
for 2 bold fantasy, thy fancy of bulging rainbows,  a serrated pillar
of luminous children
midnight is a laughing thing, a great greeting lassitude, as carefully
collapses silken hair
for who's art i slaughter apprehensively motion, becoming prone
a receptive son             of the calming burst of gleaming fur
i stoke repetitiously the cambered vertebrae of fire
and by fingered velocity i stroke about the brash sliver of hair
  bashing aggressively from thy stupor of unclad flesh(a bastion
slight fragranced as aphrodite, the hollow of thy lip brimming
incandescent droplet

     a treat
                    i thee
                                oral
)...!

1 word coiled warmly
your nape about swarms
it exactly spoken from
mouths strangely perfect
ly unclosed and jointed

                                          (your body
                                                             sort of is a
                                         crumbling feverish
                                                hot sound
                                                                   (
                                      
ocean your body sort of is an
depthless puddling skin right
down into i swim courageously
fleshy pinkness strutting gorgeously
your thighs do thatness charmingly
scrambling against my cheeks
(and your nails are sharpness
beautifully grinding lovely
in my scalp trenches) O'                you                     are                                               pain




                                                                         deliciously,

immortal is to die
it is
when arrives

(cleanly)

out of jerking
lances of
mysterious night

kisses gargantuanly slender

(as the petals of a poppy are slender)

meet furiously with knowing
and becomes unknowing

(faster than a lips become
nothings easily)

eeking from brief impossible slumber
the crisp whiteness of its noose

to hang by all men
instantly into dying forever

how my aching carpals howl stiff imposing glory
a to a page stark incredulity fouled
     and blast a flock of stunning rabble
in vernacular du fulgurer
   alighting ecstaticly            )          a wasted improbable perfection

           'pon your lush intricate handles

like oceans
stars fold outward
ever ceaseless muttering
outward stars fall(like oceans)
upward into me, they set their
teeth, on farther nearly shores
fluttering faster
stars sputter
quickly                                                                     (I
                                                                                  wade
                                                                                 into them
                                                                                they glitter
                                                                               fully shining
                                                                              flecks of gorgeous
                                                                             spittle they catch on
                                                                            my sleeves they have
                                                                           nice little exact faces
                                                                          those stars does such
                                                                         marvelous sheets of
                                                                        flickering)in the big dark house
                                                                       coiffed in locks o' goldest
                                                                      and palest ******* o' dawn
                                                                     they rest every morning
                                                                    to begin again
                                                                   that night,
                                                                                   '
                                                                                      ,
                    
                                                                                   .

i wasn,t a god but i('ve)
                  
          drohc detonk tsrif eht detsat

of ****** silence tonguing
the velvety paint of nothing
plastic thorns punishing sweetly
a rose
       patient hands searing nouns
of shapeless conformity
      straightly bending smooth roughness
and red
              and yes
       and and and and
               smile little blood
i'll cup your naked furnishings
        and we'll go strongly
into the darkness burdened vine
       of stringy gargled nightmares
and
           ;'hiccup"

how you feel in the dark( uneasy
imbalanced weirdly strong) feels

like ( coy unearthly howling) rain
feels deep with smelling after (
prickled millions of cold and hot )
mingling with the seaair and is
gently acrid salty wafts of gulls
crying scattered threading the
moonlight through their coarse
throats ( little tiny trillions of

kissing droplets slightly ) like
you feel in the dark ( imbalancing
coyly acrid howling ) feels like

THE SEA

she was the
nascent verdant        emerald
chips                     ,
brimming irises            A
virus of

her docile features  in-
fecting
the air swooning
at                                     her
gaze

and chomping at the bit        ;
my fingers
(swollen. desirous to limp
upon her plain

and                                           the
shifting of its curves


                       !

does up what seems a little clumsily down snow?

White and
White and
White and

everywhere, perhaps?seems snow

seems no

edge or fay

where might Spring's lewd fingers fit?
lewd fingers fit fat
lewd fingers find fickle fair frayed a bit fay
where its fingers can fit?

(the sun)
whose thick fingers
between the quick thighs of night

       can. fit in)just Spring

christ you hang tinsel on a wooden cross
(drooping) your unsmiling figure
by the christmas tree tinseled too
silver clever ringlets wreathing
hung by hands delicate
ornaments dote 'pon
the boughs swinging
swaying

in

some unfelt
breeze they jounce
those
lovely sparkle sprinkled
spheres

mingle in the arms
of pine and soft
cinnamon
smells

cru
mbl
i
ng

wafts increase
from
the hot busy
pocket
of
the kitchen

into soon sleeping hands
my body enters
to the sound
of small
laughter

it emits a curious colour when i am summer
(a curiously on edge colour)
when nights of me are balmy
and thick with viscous laughing
smoke between the necks of ladies
such musically ivory necks of ladies

a colour
               (curiously) when
is Summer me? rests upon the
napes of trees in parks
where dirt and goldest
crush of dawn collide
with unmuscled violence

(this colour is me totally
ambiguous
                     and clear as
the rain dropless eaves of
heaven which are so ****
before the body of her
husband (the sun) who
in those mornings warmly
comes to her and penetrates
her smoothly scratching
the heaped body of the earth)

In summer curious,
colours are me
eyes, nose, knees, and hair
all hued
and erupting
gallons of fresh colour
and wade out into Summer
deep thighs burning cut by
the sharp petals of daffodils
and tulips.  i set running hot
colours from each razored
hewing of my skin and fall
upward into gabled satisfied
skies forever

a stopping sort of started ending newing knewing sort of ended stopped and beganed sort of yesing sort of wooing newing
      sortofandalso
                                  alsok
    ­    i
         nd of stopped starting begunning
like well gee the summer was a nasal laughing roughness kind of sort of.
            i'd like to kind of
  or else to maybe
                                              with autumn who was distinctly haired
        in rich arresting dead
               that kind of starting stopping started
                                                                ­                    or well i'd like to think
     it,swellwhynotanywaybecause noone never didn't atall even in the big gabled church of dawn that strung the sky with gelatinous heaving fibers
all rabidly gesticulating puffy sansfinger hands grimaced on the slender naked
blue and black and bursting sort of kind of because sinewed fluffy hammers on because wrists because
                                               when you get all ***** in the mucky sterile daughters little pink little rose bud climbing open little rose bud up open big blooming like pink little sort of big sort of small sort of rose bud
        you kind ofwell you clean kind of your you you clean kind of clean it straight razor cleaning your you
          you cleaned with her big sharp little ******* all sharp and little and big under her shirts under her skirts kind of sort of because
                            that,s
                            w­her
                             e
                            she keeps it she
                            keepsitin there



                                                             ­                                                          summer:
she was unfreezing fresh squeezed lemon wedges sugar hilltops sweaty laughing nightmares in the big in the pale in the cordial surly pillow thick skinny heaps of gobbled luscious hot raining balmy slow quaking deaths every day i stood on that hill and i looked out over the city and she was really well gee sort of because.... . . . .               .                ,       ;       '                "

which utters coolly out of totally sleep tingling
the unclosing voice of Summer
an enormous prism of kissing waits in sweat
and lakes about the necks
of mountains where the uncoiling bodies are
hard in skin of gold
and nothing hurts

and nothing's old

I think--mystery (doyou?) more unrigidly
suppose waters sweet and waters salt
mingle in kissing and shall they make?

founding all kiss

all feel

stomach and rib?

and suppose god,         do you think?

rib and loving, for i care
and give again in exchange

my side to part
my bone to pare

and for but only that: kiss

nights   sweat    pash

skin and skin and skin
(all nice. all lovely. all
clothed in unique mysterious
beguiling)

                      ankle and calf


breast and stem

for this i infer something perfect

(i less)

and think,

                       therefore,

                                                kiss

firstlight
fingered frailing night
             mustering a silent
moan in this, our lady of night's
                        shivering onyx
*******;lacquered with the chromatic saliva
              of a coming day

heaven pinkly the
distinct hurt of your

       armor's folded

breach is
so
rawly
sore with

                 lust heaven and
so
sharp with

wetness heaven
letme
(heaven
               )pierce your folded
armor's
coiling cherry
with
my hand's
ablest
jousts heaven let
(when you're
ready                      heaven ) me i'll
smoothly
                shudder
                           ­   smother
                                            salted
honey fingers
heaven i'll
                         deeply tickle
                         your hurting
                         bones lusting(heaven)

you,re bone deep pleasure soaked carnival of and laughing cinders mucoused in the rampant hand of slick bloodless night by the bay
gradually.
    
a and a

    follicle of dangerous sleep. pastinate is the brooding cobble
a womb secluded giggle

coughing bubbly mirth

         wrack the svelte ocean o
f

          we are three
                                       in
    the bland coffer of the darkness
         plunging our stink
into each

                       others
    i

your mouth is a beauty
whose word i long to pronounce
whose keenness is marigold in summer
whose almost too fragile a slit
makes the fragrance of desire
whose language is heavy and soft
and suddenly across
your face it slices
more pink than bubble gum
and more sweetly to taste
more sugared and awefull
more impossibly resisted
your mouth is too delicate a flowering
destroying sound
of which i long to pronounce

& and of this swooping          twilight
i might say it
is it.                           one large enormity
  ,        small and tumbling
deftly clumsy                             and reposed
                          quicklyquietly
in succulent folds of mauve silence

'pon                                           the imminenthills

outside my window

And you firm and buttressed gorgeous scarlet
your health,like venus i timid and glut upon,
is also a god. harder than smooth and softer
than rough. a cool like steam and hot like
summers wings. a bird, charming and immense
she's nothing compared to you noble
to you
           t o           you
                                          there is nary a season more supple or lovely than the
undark shout of your plain and spectacular plume
      of resolute arms
                 on your shoulders
                                                   on your bones
                             your muscles
                     on them
                                      thy skin
                                                              who i dimple most commonly
          on saturnday mornings
                 when you peak beveled luscious havoc
in my brave and capricious bed
                                                           and you tousle my senses
        byTheFastStaggerOfYourMarvelous lips
      bounding pink
                                     and flush
                   madrigals in the infinite cavern of my
       very
                 and very
                                     smallest
h
  e
      a rt

your *** is like ****
(i think) and the backs of your knees
are like
i think. very nice to be inside of

i would you,

do you think too?

your lips and perhaps?

i would like oh dear to fit
like rain fits in April;
very wet and strictly.

oh dear and to eat you tinly i would hurt myself
with the hardness of earth. i would climb
into your fist very stiffly a flower. andear,
i would lay a hand against your unmeeting(
i would enter the primness of your heap
A mountain of unsleep. ) andear

i think you,

(do you think tooo)?

girl necks feel like real smooth
under fingers a gentle spindle
a cool pillar of lust when you
creep up them into those tiniest
beginning hairs(at the starting
scalp a little bit courser than the
tousled ocean of finer silken rills
which pour fiercely from)and
you eat the completely small
and unserious round nub of the
back of their head and you pull
the whole teeming perfect sad
sphere into yours

                                and an entire
                                garden of
                                kissing erupts

                                          !

HARD Issoft, nearly almost always
to phalanges strung in distinct feminine howling
striations pressed on all the everywhere of
cobbled mucous enunciated with thick muscles bent
on masculine bones packed slightly tight
and i'm **** lungs bunching across the varied consistent
folds of your open naked mouth
        that i         sting                  in                               everfor

a hideously beautyfull beAst

scream absolute violet
the vehement throat of night
blisters insanity
                               and some little reds
what talk like death
      wriggling skulls
full of strobing darkness   &

              angry blood

scarleted in superficial heat
                                                      a thrombosis
aligned rickety knees knocking
      weak lipped fire
                                   ,        at sonorous clouds waspish dint
resting aggressively supine starlight
  in crusts of vibrant tears
   spotting ardently the quavering note of black

some last night clutched the sorry sorely sack of clean rigid muscles
that tomorrow contemplates in wearing under ***** flaccid skin
that everybody wears more commonly on the brushing wane
of their frailing dying bodies that they wear on the short
folds of hours that everyday wears between sleeping
and starting cupping sunlight's wriggling adept
worm that in the corpse of night in through
its sallow ginger skin the hard creeping
the cool creeping; the slender cylinder
of its fornicating colors slips right
through it the basic plain extra
ordinarily placid death of
of strong brutish approp
riate night, "i wonder
why the wind with
legs as hard as
silk opens
never
right at
the seam
it's got at the
back of its small
its tiny, its fast white
hair lip, but who would
care how ugly its face got
because the way its hands got
all sharp and soft on my meandyou
" that's probably like how it was the
window's summer's open closing falling
clots of creamless clouds that nuzzled under
heaven onto armor, spears, and lovely amber
sunsets all over the back of my car when you
candy(like the lithe arguable sugar men did with
ruby apples and made them even sweeter with the
hot supple red shells they rubbed all over the pert negligee
of autumn's hard little luscious)ied the nape of my neck with
the lunging elegance of your saintly slightly painted painting my
nape lips those rushing throngs of sturdy cords that made me. Barely

and i say the sun is callous
     for nothing ever shall be
so
                beautiful

as the delicate fronds splayed unerringly
before my hands. and i do place my vestige
in its thrall and as it is i am nothing compared
to the softness of its belly. so lay inlaid with
rouge splendor and indelible.

   beneath  and
under and my tongue
is the sprouted clavicles
an orchard of pleasure in verdance
     blazingly dim in the moon puddles
writhing     the    muscles of implacable sensation. go to the tiny hall


            and whisper

with Venus. she is grace and smooth and the sea muttering
with the loose wind. fashioned from naked blood.

a city is a where a city is laying clumsily sprawling glittered
wrecks of cubes and
                            opaque
                          ­  lucid
                                   smoke
                                            o
             ­                              u
                                          t
                   ­                         , its manicured slouching lungs

she was
             s
               p
                   eaking
a forest a
              n
                 d
it ex

              P
LO                      DED
! a mercury ankle flexed wings digital crunch of elated
cleating sunlight through the tiny between of slatted window treatments.
a vanilla of hot dreaming darkness. the best nothing. a fleeting
permanent second burning. and we climbed
    into each others mouths our pink snakes tremendously. the air
           was sweating jealous vanity of her. an aphrodite detonating in my
cotton ocean. 500 threadcount pleasure bashful sheets clamoring
          beneath a writhing light of feminine stink.
      what a splinter. in my flavor
  it
             loves well
and
                i

clean toothed fascination:
   where in what do you see
your hideous perfection rising
sublime fists, raining terrible
love laughing onto correct cheeks?

it hurts so when you touch my face
scribble painful eloquent filigree

i elected you to blossom purple puddles
  drowning eyes. lash out craven son.

but know this: i will bathe you in my beautiful
violence screaming burst membranes across
   the breadth of your fiber loaded structure

                                 sleeping
at
                   my
horrible

                              whim

y speaking breath
                       l                                take
                 p                          timidly
              e                                   (yearning sweltering swelling fire
          e                                                          and cut languidly
       t                                                                    the shape of subtle
   s                                                          carnal clangor;into the passive
                                                                 mound of my coffee hard
                                                                      embolism) an anabolic
                                                                    shriveling eruptioning
                                                                 testosterone fountain


                                                   i,m not my own. at this quivering
                                             plussing of my heady gobble
                                                            i,m
                                                      only stone softly
                                                  ungently
                                                                  an engine
                                                           of pure
                                                        *****
                                                                     pumping

let's beholden the mask clouded face
o
                                                             f
dying gods natural arteries corral brevity
stringless heart sheaf
bask crushed stems
in the crease of love wracked lips
  mercury heels slither

                                            to

boundless expanse's delicious meadow hair
wind whispering delicate veins
hard the soft meticulous shivers rooting

)ardent vine

                                                            ouy
are the              
                                      most



                0(

in summers fist winters come
(a daughter
    )
day and frost together
(her croup languid
***** heavy cherries
)******* beautifully
freckled darlings

(with downy and petals
freezing
)her thighs run thick and
perfect
laying fingers between
those fullest
(fat fingers lazily)
autumn tickles

thronging innumerable
crunching death
(between her *******
)lays dust and fancy
juice and coffee

but she don't care
she'll **** him pretty
that season brightest
loves getting dead
between those thighs

n                                      
                                                                                        
                                                                    
                                                                                        
                 i                                                  
                                                                                        
                                            m
                                                                                        
        b     g                   o                              
i am a bit worried. i am a bit worried that. i'm a bit worried that i                 nn
     g  t       o    e apart
                                                                                        
    'm                               c    
                                                                                        
           e                                                      
                                                                                        
                          i

do i
      (with under you
        r skirt
          i pluck you
           snarling
            little fairy
             my fingers
              nimbly gowned
               in your flesh
                and wetness
                 completely
                  slipperying
                   )
                        reckon swelling
                       eve falling lushly
                       her stink
                      on
                    U
                       string
                    fervently
                   pumped
                       into right
                    between your
              lips
suddenly
              !

w

          w



                         wh



                                             what loves


                                                     this
                                                        I?i
                                                      loves the
                                                      rushing of in girls
                                                      Summer when heat
                                                      does its lips in forked
                                                      seething.

                                                       I loves
                                                       the hush
                                                       of almost winter nights
                                                       and the concise
                                                       melancholy
                                                       of empty rooms.


                                                        I loves
                                                        the by
                                                        cherriest of wristness
                                                        to loosely
                                                        in vagrant slumber
                                                        stir whitely.


                                                        I loves
                                                        the brother of my brother, and
                                                        the little timid
                                                        of barely unviolence boys
                                                        (in fists very tightly which).

                                                         But.

                                                          w w   ww what loves
                                                           Iis
                                                           the most
                                                           of life
                                                           and lessing
                                                           too
                                                           of it
                                                           into
                                                           primest daftness of sleep.

i'm sitting i can hear the ocean way out over the moon hangs deftly round in all the fitness of chaste and cool darkness my hands are at my waist i'm sure they are and where are my hands i wonder at the split milken and tenderly dripping sea it whispers my heart is in it deeper than a seagirl their ******* are like cherries popping sweetly with just a crisp flens if pinkness at their tips at their **** i'm feckless staring harder than and harder then a star leaps wholly the blouse of night one unsharp button of her quickly tousled hem i'm tearing to by bit by into her tear and a boy is sitting on his door step he looks thinking one day he will make a boy in a girl spilling her full of him

when cloistered drabs of yellow &
orange
              frail
in the vestige of coming eve
so did a thrush call                the period immediately preceding
                                        it
a silent that became
                                             A twittering song
summoning the claws of
                           my curiosity to rake it
hoping to draw a crimson
                                                        bead
o
                         f

understanding to land on the pool of recognition
still it is never known
                                        nor
                 shall it
ever
                                 be