rattle lips,
be the air conditioner's vent,
on the bent, the bent,
bet the insides of your sister's thighs
for this month's rent,
two-step, lip balm, and liquor,
turpentine, fashion gurus,
and abortion clinics,
everyone's afraid of fairy tales
and heart disease,
your mother's a nurse
for your fathers hedonistic purse,
i found the id,
follow me to the id,
i found the id,
it lies under sheet,
under sleeve,
under bleeding wrist,
and callused bride,
dig graves in the image of god,
die in the name of everlasting life?
vision trips amidst weary moons,
silver slivers
on past treasures sail on sinking ships,
and "i am the resurrection"
says the harlot,
and "i am the resurrection"
says the wind,
we ride 'em both and write home
of only the wind,
history books, history books,
paint me heroic,
history books, history books,
i've got hooks to sell,
children to condition,
and banners to wave,
god save america,
god save america,
god save the liar,
the creep,
my mother,
my *****,
and everyone of
my summer homes,
and each of my televisions,
and each crevice i can crawl into,
and each dream i can divide.

Can I come to you as I am,
in secret-
brimming with the need to be held?
Can I lay hot whispers on your skin
then taste how they make you feel?
Can I show you how to touch me,
how hard to press?
If I cry
can I hide salty tears
in the soft curve of your neck?
Can I bite, ever so gently,
before I scream?
Can I be your lover,
without you loving me?
Can I, please?

Anna,
the young lions won't want you
forever.

Eventually you are going to
get tired
of keeping it tight,
of batting your eyes,
of applying the gloss just right.

Anna,
what will you do when the invitation beds
come to an end?

Eventually the lions will settle,
while you gather cobweb and callus,
while you smoke cancer and wallow in cellulite.

Anna,
find a boy who makes you feel like the sun.

Ultimately,
he's the only one who can save your soul
from all the crimes you've done.

sara left me on the 14th of may,
while my mentor laid dying,
while my debt went unpaid.

over routine coffee and cigarette,
she watched the flimsy fabric
of my flesh
catch flame.

she floated away
to ricochet off summer lions,
whose pride lies between their
worn thighs.

i planted heavy.
aged a century in a week of
wine, infomercials, and hospital
calls.

every mutual friend i asked
about sara's condition,
told me to leave her be,
cast me in creep status.

my beard grows gnarly.
my smoldered remnants
held together by cobwebs.
and everything i ever loved
is on its deathbed.

the coffee was cold.
a day old.
i heated it.
poured it.
fought through it.

put on a b-film.
something about crap
films made our lives
feel more fulfilling.

we laughed.
exposed every flaw.
we held hands.
snuck
loving glances.

i have to wake up in three
hours, but all i can think
is life is luck,
even for the dumbest of us,
when you tell your
eyes to open up.

I see the wetness glistening from your slim body.
You have been away from me too long.
My memory of your sweetness needs no egging on.
I can not wait much longer, we need to be alone.
You know just what  I hunger. You sparkle in your ways.
You know just how to control the rythem. A little  give and take.
You fit so perfect in my hand, made just for me.
Come a little closer, stop teasing me.
My lips are so close to you, your sweetness I am about to taste.
Man there is nothing on this earth like a cold beer at the end of the day!