down to my last dollar for the weekend;
chances of falling in love in a club – I can’t pay for
those feelings. crying thoughts about what it means
to be in love, with delicate watercolours. paint me as
a feeling, as pruning a rose falling piece by piece into
that pit of love

for love is so deep when it first trips you off
your feet, the sounds of it sound slow and easy in my ear –
but like club music, the dj plays a slow song, then suddenly
blares the mood with music to bleed out my ear drums

am I… bleeding out this love, coming up
with a gift of sweet nothings in chocolate box?

      love is all sparks, but any spark can be made\\
         but that real fire in your heart, comes finding
                                                        your right match.

Do you sense their means, a shot and fast,
Where words are power, opinion takes no feather light.
Where rhythm and rhyme will make anything be true,
A world of with others are waiting for you.
If your heart beats fast when you create and ran
If you want to share what wake your brain,
Come and join us now, let your voice be heard,
In the Poetry Club, where you truly awake
Write, and think, and we all create
New place for us to share, to trust.
Make your story, and you may best.
Languages do not make us alone,
we can make the beauty of it along.
You can use translate,
and it’s no, and nor too late.

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?