I still check Craigslist sometimes
just to see what people are giving away
or trying to sell. Scraps of wood,
tires and furniture and pieces
of their hearts – so glaringly clear.
Sometimes the missed connections
are ******, sometimes just raw –
strangers stripping off their skin
and laying their bones in the streets,
to say – we never met properly,
and I miss you because of it.
Or longing – do you remember
the way we used to look at each other?
I want to love someone enough
to tell the whole world about it –
like that, private whisper into white space.
The bravery to say – we’ll meet again
one day, because of this,
because you feel the same
and would do anything to find me.
Or maybe it never works,
and all this is simply a semi-private performance
of grief, of oneness, of the in-between.
I’ll **** for make-up
I’ll **** for shoes
I’ll **** from boredom
Or cuz I use
We’ll **** at your place
Or in a car
Or in a theater
Just don’t live far
And don’t be married
Or be married, whatever
Bring your partner
Or hide me forever
He’s always away
Or simply can’t ****
He’s got a small pecker
Break me out of this rut!
They’ll say I’m a **-bag
They’ll say I’m a ****
A cheater or freak
And I say: so what?
You only live once
Be twisted and *****
Be true to thyself
Come. Join me.
Muriel, it’s been forty-four years and
I still think about you everyday.
I met you in the rain on the last day
of 1972, the same day I resolved to **** myself.
You were the **** store employee
wearing a chartreuse shirt. I was, of course,
the naked thirty-something with a few good teeth,
unafflicted by any social diseases.
You told me I had great veins.
This is a found poem.
Seeking a Dragon:
“Has anyone ever seen, a lizard who licks the air, smells the sounds, hears the tasty gnats flying ‘round and knows the instincts of his prey while holding fast his scaly-green statue on a hot summer’s day with his eyes like pinholes straight to hell, his hunger an anxious frantic swell he quickly darts after his dinner devouring that faithless sinner?”
I have heard that obese Christians are tastier. In that regard Americans must be delicious!
“You wanna get some in?”
“Split a couple grams?
Half a V?”
the coke takes you up
****** keeps you there
“There's someone I think you should meet
likes to share.
All she needs
she wants photos
before she'll commit;
“That's okay isn'it?”
She's on a working-visa no kids likes to explore
Craig's List public spaces
I want that too
take it to the edge,
it's just different is all.
— The End —