There once was a fella from France
Who'd dance a libidinous dance:
     He'd focus the eyes
     Of the club on his thighs,
Then dance himself out of his pants.

To all the boys, we're going out for a night,
Toss a coin to say we're just chasing tail tonight
But we always have to keep a heads up, for when
You probably get denied by a dime, twice this night

As we’re drinking like it's the end of a movie scene-
Waiting for our eyes to fall to black, we could barely see

Unfortunately, I caught my teeth in the skin of heat,
And I tell you- it wasn't that wise to try and dance;
Hoping to give all my intentions to her eyes chance-
But by a glance, I seen all her friends having a good
Laugh behind my back, all because of my two left feet

~
stationary now
duct tape loves
mouth and hands

inside removable interiors
heliocentric discontinuities:

the racket club
and the backstroke
the rabid club
and the hallucinogenic backchannels

swallowing too many placebos
on his balcony
facing away from the sun
blank diary entry
open on the table
'from despair to where?'

stationary in the trunk now
he says it will all
make sense soon
~

Sleuthing drunkenly in a car home.
My nature subdued by the foul
nature of the world.
Gay club I leave my body hanging out to dry.
I can show every but ever moment of myself
and I love every send of it.
Belly is out.

Our club is losing,

hear the little flags rustle --


like a cold shower.

Pre-drinking
but when was the last time you put something in your savings?

pry it open
      clan of lies    libido            and lily lunged persuaders  
             etching wounds                   ills upon those you itched after
        letching tightly in patterns            
               then blooming out          in a ring of your 'brothers'
                        again tightening
                     breaths oppress breathing
                             a clenching jellyfish action
                         offends the natural      teaming in a derangement
                                a loyalty of cowards    each one initiation edgy
                            paid up members     linked in ceremony
                                 a skeleton grid channeling away responsibility
                          thick distaste of the unsightly      and abrasive scent
                              of your speeching spatters
                        it's unmother worldly
                             a clutch of an abusive family thing
                      that psychology      that bonds for life
                         and spans love       in all its distrustful ******
                 violence
                     not a truth
             to mould in his raspy mouth
                this is a reputation
             repeated sellings
     this is not a truth
       this is just repetition
 persistently boomed      into adjustable history
     dying over and again
each hand that takes up the stylus
       muster evidence
   of our mad insistences
         the 'sharing' game
     snaring the population bulk
           and lording over it with
       your repulsating power on display

It’s been a week - things have been happening - I’m going through it. I’ve become nostalgic for two weeks ago. I got screamed at, I lost my AirPods case and I cracked my iPhone screen, so I’m several levels worse - I’m a sad human. I’m writing this at the Apple Store while a friendly Apple person renders me whole.

The Ukraine situation has everyone unnerved. Draw a card - Pandemic or WWIII? Please, protect my peace. So there’s a level of “*****-it” now.

Friday night, I’m in a bad mood and when someone says “Come-on let's go clubbing!”
I’m - “Let’s GET THIS.” Later, we’re at a club, and it’s INSANELY crowded, like a moshpit. It was ABBA night. It did not escape me that this is exactly the type of milieu I’ve been avoiding for years. Did I mention the WWIII level of “*****-it”?

Ok, moshpit, you could hardly move, you definitely couldn’t hear, and Anna dropped her phone - we were sure that it was gone forever but 30 minutes later a hole opens up and there it is - like it’s just been sitting there waiting - so, there ARE miracles.  

The list of life’s demands grow by the moment - reading, homework, laundry, dinner, upcoming midterms. I had a rock solid plan for a Saturday night of fun but assignments and necessities destroyed its integrity.

After a heroic effort and completing everything, I felt a fast-metastasizing boredom, so I wandered outside my room, hoping for company and distraction - it was 00:30 AM  - and for for once - no one else was there! Where was everyone? Hello zombie apocalypse.

So I did what anyone would do in that beat - I cued-up ”Miraculous,” because Ladybug’s always there for me.