I swear to every heaven imagined
If I hear one more teenager say "art is dead."
I personally will raise William Shakespeare from the grave so he can tell them a million reasons why he wished he could have had a gmail account.
The night I tried to teach my mother how to send pictures through text message
She sent me eleven texts of the same blurry photo of our family's black labrador.
Don't you dare try to tell me you can't find something beautiful in that.
But whatever, stay in your close minded, backwards, noninclusive club.
The rest of us will keep falling in love over Skype.
Write your protest letters to the packaging companies of children's toys
We're all going to watch the first sunrise of the year
So we can remember what a hopeful beginning feels like
When it feels like we're close to a hopeless end.
Lock yourself away like Marie Antoinette
While we all eat cake and tweet about its delicious flavors.
Hashtag stop living in your own pretentious world.
Vincent Van Gogh would have take 20 pictures a day and posted them all on instagram.
Sylvia Plath would have texted her lovers heart eyed emojis when she ran out of words.
Andy Warhol would have had the worlds weirdest vine account.
But that okay because we all would have checked it every morning
As we snapchatted pictures of our coffee orders to the people we wish were pressed against our lips instead of that first sip of latte.
This world is spilling over with 85 year olds rewatchibg their favorite musical numbers from my fair lady,
And eight year olds teaching themselves how to play ukuele, all through YouTube videos.
I never have to worry about forgetting what my mothers voice sounds like.
No longer must we sneak into our families phone books to look up the suicide prevention hotline for our best friend.
I'll never wonder how a German person says Guatentaug
Or how butterflies procreate.
Yeah I've googled both of those things,
Don't worry about it.
I'm going to take pictures on my phone of a field filled with dandelions next to the public park
And you will walk by and scoff
As I so expect you to do
But I can only hope one day you realise
How fortunate you are to live in a time
Where at any moment you can Google how to say I love you in one hundred and ten different languages.
J'taime
Te amo
Art is not dead
You are just not looking for it.

I was teetering on the precipice
of something.
edging towards the glimmer.
mashing tongues,
you tore me limb from limb.
I'm glazed with sweat.
you baste me in honeydew.

in the bedroom we speak in vowels:
oooOOHHhhooo
uUUHhh.
AAAAaaahhh
The sounds of death,
Long awaited for.
I died like this every night and loved every minute of it, bruised down to my bones.
i i i, want moremoremore.
Give my teeth a whitening.

You are the eye of the storm
the first leg into a pair of pants
the bone with the best sense of humor.

you left me high,
but not dry.

accept this broken french as a gesture of my affinity:
je taime
tu me manques
je tadore mon lapin
bisou bisou

je t'aime
un peu trop peut etre
surement
je sais
j'en fait toujours trop
pour toi mais surtout
pour mon visage dans tes yeux
tes joues rouges
oh mon dieu je taime
beaucoup trop je sais
j'oublie tout, pardonne tout
tout ce que je veux
c’est du temps
une seconde
un regard
une parole
je t’aime, oh
je sais que je t’aime
je t’aime a mourir
je t’aime a rester
je taime trop
je n'y peut rien
et pourtant
je me blame
je t’en veux
un peut trop peut-etre
je n’y peux rien,
tu me hantes,
et j’acceuile ton fantôme
avec un sourire aux les lèvres.
Je t’aime,
beaucoup trop je sais,
si tu savais,
si tu savais.

Dans tes yeux je vois qui je suis,
Qui je pourrais être aussi,
Dans tes yeux je sais qui tu es,
Toujours, toujours je te verrai.

Dans les lignes de tes mains,
Je reconnais tous les galets qu'on croise aux coins des océans,
A la fois polis et soyeux, carressés amoureusement par les vagues,
Et rauques, sauvages, sculptés par la pluie et l'écume,
Prêts à affronter chaque orage.

Et quand le soleil se lève a tes cotés,
Qu'il se couche dans tes bras,
Dans les sourires de tes reflets
Dans le son de ta voix,
Dans l'effluve de tes pensées,
Dans chaque creux de tes doigts,
Je te vois toi.

tattoo the word Holocaust
onto the palm
   of every African-American....
and wait...
  Apache!
           hood crux pixie...
        ****** addicts in Westplate....
        and wait for a century...
give it 100 years in Auschwitz...
               or give it ***** hope for
a pear....
                           and then i'd too
coagulate into custard phlegm...
             auf wiedersehen lenin...
   contort hippie named contra...
               armed boa:
and that handshake...
                        hoarce Horace!
                  shatayin bigger, bottom-blob
bound into eminem....
                          and it was always
to be dirtied by luck...
                fetish...
   dodged and the dog and cameod
the crucifix...
                                       igloos in egypt:
senf (mustard) gaz (gas): khaki
                  diarhhea.  
                        gravitas in the grün...
mein iris... regen bonne hund!
                                    volphren kind...
                   prunes of y in iota said: dried out
kynd...
and pirates toward a je - taime calculator:
taming the berserk stierhund...
                                 bison-knirschen:
hans klaus -
                              myth-gate ᛋᛋ...
              bolt and Zeus...
                                 i am: heritage +.
              Croatian nazis....
                                  nicht, nic, die volk.
annehmen steuern... katakombe denken...
                          ᚠᚨᚱᛟᛖ ᛁᛋᛚᛖᛋ...
told: by a hobbit... or originating from Dublin:
****'s sake!