I want to lie in the low lights
Listen to loud alternative music
Feel chemicals relaxing my body
And forget

She squirmed and wriggled in absolute anticipation, just loving it, eagerly ready for what would come, love making in the most special and intimate way. Slowly Nigel moved his fingers up and down Stacy’s pussyanthamicatrical, enjoying the tightness of the plastic

though she was moist in her nose. The material of her ******* was soaked by dryness, science reversal. Part of her skirt would be but that didn’t matter. Soon she would be naked, not needing any

second skin to hide her beauty; that was left to her third. They had no secrets or inhibitions. Except skin.

Sometimes we grow short
The perfect height for special missions
Ideal for infiltration behind enemy lines
Or licking pussycat shaped lollies ****** style
We will strike at will
And achieve our aims
War mission or five-aside buddy
We live on mars

doesn’t matter

it’s the fact that
every last one of

you

thinks we shouldn’t
and that’s where
you’re wrong

give us an alternative
that will raise the bar
that high
that fast
from that little

you can’t

i don't blame you for not trying

the thoughtlessness pushes them forward
an empty musical order
they go tranced with no former
with no sense of horror
nowhere and onward
transfixed tortured
bleak of notes
cornered
tundra

Adult Alternative Poem

not for the young, reserved just for the young, just at heart,
your skin, face, crinkled, for smiling is you resting face positivity,
you daily existence free of punctuation, no separation,
your body tilted, falling forward, only direction the chest understands

your words sewn on tapestry of silence, yet voices never stilled,
fingertips spark on command when touch is earnest, casual, fierce,
Bublé, Sting, Daughtry, Allison and Adele, ****** tears commingling,
read her your love poetry & her chest breathing, your oxygen tube

easy to be an adult when the alternatives are all
proximity discoverable, nearness constant, distance an irrelevancy,
age just another construct and love, an ageless deconstruction+
unfinished reconstruction, adult alternative channel, our only playlist

the door creeks


"Ah, I've been waiting it for weeks."


"It's surely the Reaper, the final undertaker."


waiting for nothing


"Maybe, he has another job. The door creeked, but he sent one of his helldog to do the job."


the void avoids my thoughts


"Hellhound or a fluffy bunny, stop me feeling so moody."


"Somebody, take my thoughts and take me voice. Not to feel more sore."


waiting


creeking