.































































­
                                                  who loves shall not die beyond there body.



























































­





                                                                                                                                                                              .

eel(f em
the way–electric

              –you

leef like
(stern notched hard at the lips)
cursing drunk
slightly of
f
ff
kilterst

                ep

p i n

        g


the curb curb()
stumble-umble over oh-ver
y tight
in tights

(rose patterned)andmoist

between the heelzover
my shoulders.

i like the see feel needs
the hands and
the **** maybe.

i like the sun you hot river a.

i like the by your bank cheeks,
tween the fists of Spring an' Summmer.

i like the to hold your mouth
closely tight
with my hands
and in your hair playsome
grasping an' pull.

i like the splitting of your flower to bleed.

and i like how when stillness completely is your body.

i like(and i like you)and i, like you, am

love.

o to speak
o to speak and sing
o to speak and sing aloft
o to speak and sing aloft a moment
o to speak and sing aloft a moment hung
o to speak and sing aloft a moment hung in night
o to speak and sing aloft a moment hung in night and dreaming
o to speak and sing aloft a moment hung in night and dreaming (mysterious sublime evil)

and to kiss every flower's little fist

scent sweet
scent sour

completely of petals clefted and parting

clefted and parting emits
to wreaking dawn a babe

a babe of green and many
green and many and soft

soft and many and green (a babe)

a babe mysterious
a babe sublime
a babe evil

(SPRING)

pink
that immured
betwixt chaste
cleats of girly leg

the hard ardor
of boyly prism
to wantonly beg

it by pale scythe
of membranous ***** reap

the clean growing
of all tall cane
where reason keep

the unsweet substance
of cool and pensive mind

(but by blood and hot lather
in stupid gouts of
scarlet
needing
bind ).      .              .                      .                           .                                            .

milkwhite,

                           you're so. and

warm sticky

'round each finger

thick and
white and.
your stomach is

                                         cream

it is bitter an
D soursweet  
it feels like dough
firm and it froths
with writhing muscles Milk

in the belly of her fragrance
laid and bared(it's where
the unclad baying of superior
determined fruit
hearkens genially my quaking
and my venom
to deftly smear my soul
in swollen anemic) hysteria

i love you and i'm sorry because.
i do not love you the way
you are perfect(andyouare),
i love you the way you are not perfect. i love

you

the way

you are. i love you

the way you have felt sharpness
(between certain dark things).

And i love you the way
you are uncertain darkness
(between sharp things).

and i love you the way your strength is pain.

(and i love you the way i am sorry because).



And i'm sorry.

and i love you.

some barely rosebud
tenderly just
open
slenderly

bobbling
aloft
skinny skinny skinny
stem and

a pink
sliver of
petals
bunch easily
at

the lips
of its,

(hands go around
and: Pluck            )

thatsh itlitt lepunk


           bitchshe

herfuk


                    inhair's

shortshaved


an

           dfu



    ckshe'


******>


                   'erhandssmall




fit so easily

inmy'andssmall that





fukkinbitsch

punkassshiiit.

god's spades little digging children 'tween the hips o' girls
digging deeply (al itt le finger) lays a thousand times; seeds


                                   (niggles the dry packed loosing firm)

a root extending from

                                             into

                                                           a rose becomes
                                                                     a thorn
                                                                          pricking
                                                                        

waists (shoots and leaves
              shoots and leaves
              shoots and leaves

                                              )gardens calls 'em boys
                                                calls 'em boys when
                                                (digging spades release)
                                                a seeds to spill girls 'tween hips 'o

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
  )

wut

   wut've u beeen?weight, wait


waitin 4 u been(the mouth

(the hair the

    fingers)(inside the


)tuchin the touching
inside you the
way quick quivers
jostle in your wet wet?)

U been waiting for hands(4hands
)on your neck in your mouth

in your mouth's been waiting
4 sum fingers

4 sum lick spit fingers
(your mouth:

sum wut's

been

weighting

4 sum.    Wut?

the such my hands(yourstiny)they

,as like rain,

they the their

          body itt

                                    e

                      
                              e

                                       ms

                      like with
                      beauty it
                      sings
                      singly
                      it
                      seems
                      unseemly

                 .

Dear it
the cough
your *******
they
point they
coo they
their
fracas is
it soft
does make
hardme to reek
of youth so mad feverishly
i, like coming morning, wash
your valley full
my piercing ray,



                                             i


                                            until do

                                            (as day does
)
                                            break

                                            and hollow fill
                                            the swallowing
                                            of thy hips

(                                           the color of thy bonny
                                            the cherry of your lips                           )

that kind of "*******

i ' m

goingtosmoke

a cigee                       "is



(to me)          so




so body
andso

it's

dying stupid wonderfully
to taste like

when lips are our(andtongueplease

.














                                            




­







                                              SO.me um sum *******

                                                uff ruff ******* so
                                                polished; leashed
                                                IN

     ­                                                      your
                                               spread your *******
                                               mouth
                                               let's (wider)
                                               hard i'm
                                               going
                                                         to

                                               so those
                                               fukin
                                               take em off
                                               satin white
                                               little littles
                                               ,
                                               ****(do you like it when

                                                i "yes
                                                ))))        ­       please

                                                please


­                                                 "hurt me
                                                  into apart teeth .   teeth
                                                  fingers inside

                                                  inside tongue
                                                  tonguing­ little
                                                  rrufff stubble

                                                  neck neck:

                                                  throat.
­
                                                  Gag.

this world

does it see the feel need
(as a child does



                                         )flowers?


and does it see them?
the stems by coloures eloquent
bobbling tiny thousands

each a poem silked in light
each a vast array of smell


and does it feel them?
the curving hollow
of rushing soft

to gather in a ****** plume
the tease and romp of hue


and does it need them?
the sigh and quake of fragile dying
the least living
the most loving

and does this world
(as a child does

a flower )?

and does it?



























and does it?

.
















                                                                                    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,




                                                    .



                                    
                                   '




                                                  ,





                                    .

(body)O(body)
            in
whose white house
all churches are born,

      you leap completely

freshness you

fly on such youth

(rendered instantly sublime
                  )in
the daftest cloak
of livedying.

you elate,
and you shuttle erectly
the motesome of boystuff,

to war inwardly; shouting:

.. .   .    .    .      .       .        .           .            . "o body please,
                                                                      in whose white house all churches are born, body

                                                                      o

                                                                      and
      
                                                                      please?"

fall into sleep thy body always Spring,
let thy hair uncrisply from mutest gold
turn from youth's splendors

                        towar' wrinkles; fold.


of thy mouth make early nothing,
as April flowers tender

pass thy lips to clearings cold
with kissless hours slender.


fear not the weary mile
treaded years shall always bring

walk in fasted silence
and of thy ending slowly sing.

down the ups of the very backs of streets
just skirting the very edges of napes
the cities slightly tickled little hairs rushing
up it's thighs, colluding thickly bushy
barely about it's "ooch!" it's "ow!"
it's youth rimmed slouching pocket
hollow fully bursting. empty so crowding
tightly packed cheeks, clumps of giddy
gurgling songs pumped lazy chords
they sickly punch the nooks and crannied
edges flourishing the rainbow bright
chatter of lungs that taste the air so
healthy and so long. "Tonight, as the day
goes 'Wee!' over the ******* wallop
we"ll higgle wiggle in it's corpse
our skulls and merry bones to
frothing jowls overwhelmed with boisterous
young hearts supping it's crudlicious
pillow, supple and rotting gums
the large lit teeth of whom bust
right to heaven while we fling about
their oblong towers our shales
of *** and magic;

16 hurts inside
her hurts
inside 16

white white white, lips. *****

lips white inside

16 hurts

;
little kitty 16
white ***** pregnant little short shorts barely barely cover cover

little white lips

(she needs 2 hairdos to wear 'em)

girls feeling EMPTY cords 'tween their hips feel. They
of some nothing
go each day
filling
nothing
with
some
cords.

do not lay me amongst thy hand
(towar' heaven ascending)
of earth stuff more come.

come thy mouth as daughters;
come thy slavering, come thy pistil keep.
a flower,

come. come as
riotously fragrant Spring
snowing easily with health.

come, and, steal my soul for sleep;
and place 'tween the knees of forests
***** bales of sighing wind.

come in most unsilent clothed
thy myriad of flesh.

come and life

unmeet thy thighs
,admitting,

perhaps the lather(your colour)
through me to seep.

have you ever seen or felt
or pressed apart the lips
of dying girls who
23 years less of life
split tenderly–
wetly caving
into

         eyes
hair mouth
shoulders spine
a tiny breath
fluttering lids
tense cording of
sinew

dancing sharply
pulled sternly after
wrist
hands onto
scalp

the buzzing
of coarse
tightness
against lips(mylips)

and dies
one dying
final revolution
of ecstatic
breathing

(who
in her mounded purse

tastes of salt
sweet and

                              earths




?

magic surly blood dank
gold flecked and musty
shimmer set alight burning
you're some copper and some
dark brown sugar

                 like you taste like rust

against night dear a skull
sockets brimming with ladybugs

          behind a knoll

in forest deep and green sleeping
magic forests

  (         where fairies are still really

       nice fairies with

            great hair
    
   and they play diminutive

   harps
             strung
                         with light
                         and dancing)

magic stirring from firmest and
unyielding repose

             rise

and meet me in Summer in
forests sleeping greenly and
festering with holly crimson
Magic
you're some
thing i don't know
but i'll try to say you
anyway and i know you
love me 'cause i felt you in
between the sweltering balm
of girls thighs pliant and annihilators

(Magic surly blood dank
and glittering a bit of rough
you are like baking cake just
for yourself and a friend arrives
unexpectedly and you sit down
delighted and instead of alone
you eat and talk all afternoon
about nothing at all)                      


                                                Magic
                                                           you are
                                                           like that

deepest length, a truncated obesity, abruptly gradual: a stem pops gently to present colors damp. a pavilion of ugly columns, the streets a budding promise; akimboing in gross pleasure. and the jostling laughter of serious music says to languor apathy a locomotive steeply belching roses.
. .
               ?

of the knit of life let's say there is something.

something so wonderfully to touch.

so beautifully easy.


Let's say of it fingers,
between its hair,
laughing.


Let's say of it,
with minute teasing brutality,
a slendering of being. instantly

which shudders
steeply into breathtaking darkness. let's

say wide our mouths to eat it.

(each morsel turgidly serene)

let's say dying(and let's).

die easily into it our bodies
as wan incredibly infinite destroying.

i could (outside hear  )

            "clip

                     clop


                     clip


                                  clop

                                      clip"

                                                  outside

                                                     i
                                                    could
                                                   hear
                                                  (smell)
                                                 steam
                                                expelled
                                               rapidly
                                              night
                                             children
                                            laughter
                                           and
                                                  "clip

                                                clop
                                             clipclop
                                    clip

                                           clop


                                clip"

ears pricked

                       eyes

                                 bloodshot


                                            and

                                                  "clop
                                                           clip

                                                         clop
                                                             clip

                                                             clop
                                                                 clip"

                                                             gentler
                                                               farther
                                                                 gentler
                                                                    farther

                                     and


                         "clop
                                clip
                              clop
                                clip
                               clipclop
                              clopclip
                             clicclop



                                

                                         clip

                                                      "

Legion, O the sleeping of your flower is October
many fewer than everyday fewer and many

O slumber, your October is a legion of flowers
hairless kissing bulbs that bend oh just bend
in the grey bluster steeply bend and oh just

O flower, your slumber is the legion October
who marches cruelly through miles of trees
picking of them each their every jounce and bobble

October, O the flower of your sleep is Legion
many always fewer and always fewer many



(grey cruel blustering and through miles of
trees picking bobbles and jouncing marches
hairless kissing bulbs that lean just bending)

know me:
(i am myself amongst you)
i am the root of light;
i am the light where roots dare not tread to pass.

shall die who not
of Spring always?

not grass or leaves.

not the sea or
the tragically rapid
wings of
hottish wind.

not the rocks
or the
trimmly light locks
of crimson eve.

not the fit splendor
of the night
or (the who)
of, "why not?"

when shyly asks
of boys, girls ,
to part them

(in twain of pleasure's hutch
  

   )         (              where



      ,        like of Spring        ,


dying is not so

as vermillion becomes of touch     )

we are effortless(
a pale and limbic house
)we hold in each others
our hearts
or music
                      the tone of marble calves
or your skinny hips                                            where
                                        i strum between they
the chord
                     which          rises
(from your pelvis )
                                        to a throat bubbling howl

everyday i'm discussing with everyday, myself as i make out to the glamouring
the inches and dashes of every self i have
and stitches of sinew here in which lies the me that is this i, i that am

i walked in leaves of grass, of wriggling splendor's summers of shoulders
and achy crimsoned necks by the suns meters of light
measuring the stints of our crawling opaque days and suns of many sons

it's very that is that even when sun should repose his ***** of uncadenced
carefully miraculous shimmering blood
like orange and ardent flesh he'd go on us it, giving his very stuff our bodies

to wear on our wheres and whens and whys. is night not also beautiful?
it is naked beautiful. **** and beautiful
plenteous and beautiful with all its hearts in tinder palely igniting every

atom of copious earth. bowls of copious illuminant children, the things
which will become after us
the us that we were before their coming. but they are gorgeous and neither

would i weep if in my going they should take that space where were was
i. resting the shouts of my self
in the orchards of youth, i am now so but it's quickly running, flitting

eagerly from my this. in vines and plurals i am single and many. neither
none nor many. but many ones,
little bubbles of tranquil vile fluid guttering the songs of wind.

i go to streams and they are me. i go to mountains and they are me. i go
to valleys and they are me.
can i be streams and mountains and valleys? can i not be streams and

mountains and valleys? they are weeds and i am a ****. a **** is a rose.
i am rose.
i am blossomed in full spring. able of petals. i am turned to the sun, with my

root between the lips of earth. who is my lover. the earth is woman.
she is a ****.
a **** is a rose.

by another name. they smell just as sweet.

comes from the earth
a flower roughly
divulges tenderest
colours in early
morning dew lathered
becoming immutable
unbreaking

                      destroys

activating the simple
motion of her hips
she divulges the
languid perspicuous rivulets
of her sensual
into the immaculate ocean
of this infinitely crisp
winter city

2day glass
through heaped sunlight
dusty
accumulates a second
when fair meticulous
paws stir
                (claw and whisker)
bunch and unbunching
deftly
shatter lilting
minutest bobbles

i, night, hung about thy cheeks more splendored
beams crisper and wholly brisk with wind
than even winter could. i stroked about the
penultimate hour of your face the little and
stranger carelessly perfect lips of my face
and drinking so stilly the sky is abrupt
with normally clothed stars; **** and playfully
abundant. i lay my heart with thee and i am
increased. i lay hands with thee and i am
between the velour of your not-covered thighs
making, with you, an errant child like Demeter
and Poseidon (who hangs his restless skin upon
the nape of the coiled neon streets. hinted
at his edges just; the circlet of the bay, i wander
in thee night.)

listen to the night i do listen to it drench me in it's very softest fibers consume me
into the rough cuddle of it's violent toes treading up my spine electric it
snares my bones and hair and eyes and draw my lithe littles over
the laughing velvet of it's thigh and falling into
it's cute neon lips
i

Summerwassohot
    (in you)
when
plum wine

,

in the tight heat of tiny Eugene

,

mudfuddly
drunkenly heaved
with ******* every night.


and sweat

a perhaps summer wilt with hands maybe
like cups or bowls o' laughter running over
what drizzles o'er the numerous human
stuff by a pondsome quick pretty water
glittering succulently its most cool grasp

o'er her body from it gallops the crescents
of her lush formidable query i tousle
with my tongue like last winter i was
walking in a garden when the frost
stung my nose real hard and i was
just almost inside when i noticed how
absolutely demure the snow was
clutching the soil it like a lover it from
whom it nay would release except for
that same afternoon it rained and
all was unfrozen and loved no more
the snow the soil like this terrific

droplet of her skinny strength stabbed
with youth and running out her wounds
the ablest *** dances rushing on sturdy
limbs to snare over the cuirass of flickering
electronic flesh (my chest) and drape
supreme fair fairy dust inside each
nostril and straight to my dithering acute
brain and tingles abruptly her
belated fingers unday brushing the eaves
of cobalt with purple frilling the
edges and we repose in the cracked
bucket leather seats of my drab yellow
volvo and

                 and
                         and

in fairest spring,I,

         standing

    interposed

              twixt

     lightanddarkness

feel

         Raw

            fragile



                invulnerable

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)

the flesh you have been has always been the world beyond me to leap through all mudness such clarity of love i have soared upon the breadth of each timid stroke of it and slept furiously amongst its petals.

did you ever reading unbearably beautiful suddenly
fall out every letter or words even really tiny and
without sound stumble up into air cringing
with evening's unsharpest light

                                         i

lufrednow ylpsirc srettel ta yletinifni nageb i did
   snuon sbrev ecindoolb gnuls sdrow derettefnu
              gnixommulf meht revo thgir llef i ylevol
                detanhcne yllacigam yesorpnu yleritne

Oh this were if only it were if
it might
be more possibly

to wantingly be.


                                    (but only)
                                          it's
                                        were

not if
or could.

Or if
it were
is

                       it might


(would)

     be.



an'
pleasantly so.

impromptu heaven
your sudden ample petal
drove clean straight wicked
a gnarling sodden wistful considerate
inconstant unpermanent rising golden bobble
(a really big wet
said on my heathen brow
the somewhat between
of your delectabley furnished hips)

guggle buggle
the skirts and muggles
meager or muddle
                                         like 2 tones
a twilight
       almost sweetly
a sweating majesty(it broke trebleing uncorked femurs
briskly pattering the swilling silt
the siltish swill
                                 )by a massive
the very sea was outward and upward and forever and ever and ever & E,V'eR;
            !
             '
            "
              .
                '
               "
            .
              ,
                   '
                        .
                  ,          
                             .  
                                        '
                                                    ,
                                                               .

O, earth your heart
i(init),plant,1 seed:

my heart,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,

rooting splendidly
between your lungs

does breath an ultimate
lily whom i pull to my
chest from out your
pale shoulders it marvels
on **** imperfect beating

(the stiff impossible soil
forget me in it
when last finally
all motion ceases)but till then              ,               hang me in your lips

hulking radiant fragrant lips
i will be a god in you
and whisper terrifically
your name in even immensest
consuming stillness(and the grass will eat of me; and i will be a garden    !
                                                                                                                                   '
                                                                                                                                      ,
          
                                                                                                                                                '
                                                                                                                                                
                            
                                                                                                                                                  ,
                                                                                                                                                             ,
                                                                                                                                          

                                                                                                                                                '
                                                                  



                                                                                                                                                                       .

milkwhite,

                           you're so. and

warm sticky

'round each finger

thick and
white and.
your stomach is

                                         cream

it is bitter an
D soursweet  
it feels like dough
firm and it froths
with writhing muscles Milk