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Martin Narrod Jul 2018
250 Surf

And into the driveway it takes it for a ride, come on take on this lifeline, and feel it from below, moving up and moving jag, one more for free when I buy nine won’t you put it in the bag- the people are freezing, the zig is at the zag, all the people are screaming, won’t you let them in the back? Come on won’t you feed them, and tease them with a zap, catastrophe seething, relaxing in the bath, suffering or maybe ******* squeezing, pick me up from the airport we’ll go driving in the Jag, you’re already mostly in the bag, I light up a square and light a second for you man, light one up for the girl whose sitting in the back. Her hands are freezing, her lips are turning black, a lamp standing on a suitcase, Earl Grey and Lavender, she’s got ***** packs and sunglasses, she’s gotten ready for morning class, it’s a gas, a blast, from the past, trash and she’s ******* reeling for a squeeze, she just wants a taste of the past, I laugh, I laugh, I laugh. Put a stamp on her legs, touch them and turn up the volume on the amp. She’s got it, she’s not it, she’s winning playing tag-

Come on won’t you feed them, and tease them with a zap, catastrophe seething, relaxing in the bath, suffering or maybe ******* squeezing, pick me up from the airport we’ll go driving in the Jag, you’re already mostly in the bag, I light up a square and light a second for you man, light one up for the girl whose sitting in the back.

We’ve arrived wearing new things, they think we’re in the band. We order tater tots and martinis, and get our gear so we can get ourselves together in the van. It’s a plan, let’s advance Peter Pan, lift off, touch-down, get a spotlight, and then let’s have a dance. I’ll hop out of the pram, catch a lamb, with just one single hand, greet the grand, then do three somersaults, before we go on tour from 250 Surf Street and perform our second jam, we’re the coolest of the new acts streaming from Japan.

Come on won’t you feed them, and tease them with a zap, catastrophe seething, relaxing in the bath, suffering or maybe ******* squeezing, pick me up from the airport we’ll go driving in the Jag, you’re already mostly in the bag, I light up a square and light a second for you friend, light one up for the girl whose sitting in the back.

In the movies, monsters chase the heroes down. Is there a series of numbers that will release our hunter so she can catch those monsters by the horns. It’s a storm moving forwards, a disaster itching to come back, it’s the sound of a nightmare kicking dirt and bounding down the path. They’re alone but I hear her, the dangers coming fast. This olfactory mainstay, of juggernauts searching for something of a snack, even just a pack of peanuts in their sacks. A sample coming quickly, a set of kissing wizards sniffing cotton candy from a bag. The ache of a Tuesday, where seduction leads our pack. This is merely an act, this is merely an act, it’s just merely an act. Tombs enacted, coffins still they can’t resist, feeding sorceries and eating whims.

But then this is nothing, their stories quickly held in suspense. Their fingers numb with the words, they continue to forget. The strangers are wanting for this alphabet, the laws of the marshal that summer soon upsets.

An alert for the clouds,  across the sky to the stains on their affair, her man ******* pleading, love please put back on your underwear. The girl is screaming, in the governments’ undertow, and the ache of her sexuality can bring her skirt back down. Then there’s this season sweeping, there’s this garden you remember from back home.  the flowers topped upon the stem, thorns dipped in poisons, they keep our heart rate in suspense. Into the river  a surge of disbelief, where the cranberry serums overtake those 15th Century reliefs.

Then there’s the neighbors of evil, they’ve brought up the bags, pairing off with a 40oz and a joint of sticky hash. They carry their guns, and they carry with numbers. The master of art dying on a chariot or gurney. A satyr boost by easy flow, dances for tips at a Go-Go. Drinking up with idle stars, smoking cigarettes at outdoor but covered bars. Drinks for her friends. Drinks to get rid of the bends. Something to carry them through, something to carry after them too. Pleased and pleasing.

This is just the story of easy. This is just the state of disbelief. This is just the nuisance of riding a cable car, and performing with a chisel some religious affiliates relief. Then it’s the garden, 64-bit software coming down. He passes the lighter back to the girl sitting quietly observing, while the minister’s teeth are quickly falling out. So please me please me. Please me appease me and send me out. If the bagel is 99 cents and a drink is a dollar ten, we should have enough to sit on the bench before we start to go. Just *** and please me, just scream and shut the doors up top. I spin in circles riding Brooklyn rooftops, while the neighbors try to stop us from jumping down. I guess somebody died last week from jumping down, I guess somebody died from jumping down. I think he died from being alone. You and I wont die from falling down, we’ll never die from being alone.

Come on won’t you feed them, and tease them with a zap, catastrophe seething, relaxing in the bath, suffering or maybe ******* squeezing, pick me up from the airport we’ll go driving in the Jag, you’re already mostly in the bag, I light up a square and light a second for you man, light one up for the girl whose sitting in the back. She asked me if I was gay, I touched her leg, and put my lips to her mouth. We sat in the car past morning, whispering and never coming down.
Francis Jul 2018
Nice Guys,
they finish Last.
They make it by,
the skin of their ***.
The woman don’t,
appreciate class.
They expect ‘em all,
to have ***** of brass.
Quack Quack.
Desiree Jul 2018
Flowing footsteps from skytrain to street
Trying to stay calm, but I'm so excited to meet
You, here, under the changing glow
Of signs, of places, hoping we slow our
Pace and enter. But we are in search
Of another establishment, on the whim
Of a word, a nudge in the right direction.
The winds blow us into the red glow
Of ambiance, of elegance, the right selection
Portobello perfection, Mezcal gin,
Beautiful soul sitting close with a grin,
We can't help but laugh "this is how you win!"

Foggy to recall the way that we went
Home on the bus, or the money we spent.
None of that matters much when you are lost
In the depth of another being, intriguing
To find kin where you are not used to seeing them.
Laughing up the stairs in the corridor,
Knowing in this moment, this is your life,
It is beautiful, you are not needing more.
Both of us feeling this as we reach the door,
"Welcome to Buzzer 2" let's see what's in store.

Waking up cuddling, always a delight.
So much accomplished already, but you might
Have to run out quickly and buy some beans
For the bullet coffee that will be our means
Of mobilization, into the street,
Rubber soles on our feet, ready to meet
The pavement outside which will guide
Our path from delicious morning smoothie
Over bridges, through the downtown core,
Both realizing we would make a great movie
If film could ever capture the way that we soar.

Hats tilted slightly sideways, we even get work done.
Painting quickly so we may continue our run,
Over the Granville bridge, lilac in the air.
And there is no hiding the way that you stare
At my ***, and the mountains, a beauty so fair.

Rangoli's is next, fine dining, the best chai!
Decadently treated to Portobello twice.
Sweaty in our running gear, we are here
Trying to avoid timestamped bills and clock chimes
But you give me your best guess, lately spot on!
I glance at the sun to figure how much day is gone.
Even though there are so many moments left
To unravel, I embody the feelings - being
Ever present to crystallize the memory of our travels.

We turn towards the sinking sun, and I run
My fingers through windblown lion-locks.
Basking in the energy we emanate, we stun
Onlookers with our badassery and good looks.

Granville island is next on the docket
Searching for elusive sumac, in the spice shop
It is tucked away on a shelf, among rarities.
You light up at the till, and guarantee
The next place we head to is going to be
The crown of the afternoon - The Distillery

In shorts and tanks we stroll in with class,
Walk up to the bar and order a glass
Of the finest and most signature gin,
But just a taste, not enough to make the head spin.
A nectar so pure, so incredibly smooth
We continue our stroll, we continue to lose
Sight of places you were expected to be,
Apparently easy to do when you hang out with me.

Crossing under the bridge, sunset rays shine
Through the city canopy, it is nearly time
For the moon to transition us into the night,
But I pull you aside for a moment, while its still light
And kiss you with passion, with fever, with might.
That gin in the afternoon has increased our delight.

And it's not over yet, we play for a while.
Horsing around at the bus stop, we smile
And pose on the blue wall, gangster-style.
Moments in snapshots, spirit of the child
Creating our reality, embracing our WILD.
Rose May 2018
I am coffee for one,
Sipping on the bitter taste of loneliness as it sinks and slips down my throat.
I am one flight, one way,
Watching as clouds float by, all clustered together in a perfect daze.
I am sitting alone,
As words blur before me of another damsel being saved by another possessive brute.
I am a joke,
Made by two swooning lovers as they forget their bags of loneliness tethered to their hearts.
I am me.
A half working, cynical, unloveable soul who was marked by brutes who thought I wouldn't burn.
I am waiting.

R.
oddmanout Jun 2018
Don't get me wrong
I love the Bachelor
and the Bachelorette

The getaways
The fun dates
the good looking people

But is it that's what's wrong with dating today?

Instead of worthiness
We're in it for the pic
what looks best on instagram
while inside we yearn for contentedness

But restlessness is what we're given
got to keep up with the joneses
we're afraid to let ourselves feel
for people based on status

Is it a twilight zone scene
can't be because it's around
from the beginning
ancient royals doing the same
but now we're in a modern aristocracy

So I'll turn off the Bachelorette tonight
I don't need fancy
I need supportive
and sweet
In it for the long haul
and loves me wholly
Miss me with the fake love
and give me the real
pia Jun 2018
She said that night
tell me something about love
I stood still
my mind racing
it was as if my head
came to an abrupt halt
but my heart almost immediately
came up with words
I don't think existed yet

I wanted to tell her
love is looking into her eyes
and melting on the spot
but somehow I couldn't
so I looked her into her eyes
and smiled

I wanted to tell her
love is caring
but somehow I couldn't
so I grabbed her a glass of water
she smiled

I wanted to tell her
love is two hearts
dancing to the same rhythm
but somehow I couldn't
so I asked her what movie
she'd like us to watch later
still smiling
she had a confused expression
the notebook
she wanted to watch the notebook

I wanted to tell her
love is patient
and that I couldn't stand that movie
but somehow I couldn't
so I kissed her on the cheek
and said ok

I wanted to tell her
love is admiration
but I couldn't
so I stared at her
and told her she was beautiful
all throughout the movie
even though you were teasing me
that I was missing half of the storyline

I wanted to tell her
love is warm
but somehow I couldn't
so I wrapped her in my arms
even though we were already
warm under the covers

I wanted to tell her
love is happiness
but I couldn't
so we laughed all night
exchanging jokes no one
else would understand

I wanted to tell her
love is so many things
but somehow I couldn't
so I loved her
and hoped she would understand
AAron Roz Jun 2018
I fell asleep with the poem to my chest.
It gives me a much warmer feeling than any of my blankets.
I take it everywhere I go.
When I go to town, to bed, or just to the fridge.

It's from my Easter bunny.
The one that I love from his nose to his toes.
He's a strong little bunny.
With his light curly hair, that hides the truth.
He's also a sneaky little bunny.
He got me to be "normal" for a week.
For that I should give him a treat.
"Here little bunny, I want to play."

Would you play with me?
You can choose the time and the place.
I will bring the toys and poetry.
Thanks for the poem, Underneath! It means a ton to me!
Lacey Clark Jun 2018
Everything I did was viewed through the lens
of some sophisticated world traveler.
You really critiqued me, from how I got on the bus,
your eyes checking my intuition of how to stand while it moved,
seeing how I engaged in conversation with strangers,
scanning the clothes I've curated,
and gladly noting how "little I seemed to care about them",
chalking everything up to "american ignorance",
to scoping my bookshelf for your overrated preferences,
you are prying into my music taste,
my palette,
my body.

Meanwhile,
I get on the bus per usual,
wide stance to balance the stop-and-go motions,
I tell people have a nice day and make small talk about most everything!
especially the weather,
my collection of clothes is a museum themselves,
I care and tend to each piece carefully,
I think American's are happy-go-lucky double edged swords,
My bookshelves,
music taste,
pallet,
and body
are all full of volumes
unreachable by those who try to see me through
their narrow monocular.
i literally went on two dates with this man. don't suffocate yourself with your own point of view.
Meg Wickham Jun 2018
i was freezing, but i didnt mind
the windows were down
i couldn’t hear him
“what?”
we were southbound
“when we hit the parkway
we are rolling the windows down and
singing along to Don’t Stop Believing”
how romantic
cinematic
he called out to the winds and said
these are the nights we are meant to live
and i believed him.
don’t stop.
god he looked so beautiful in the street
lights. i giggled as he sang
and hoped to whatever universal power that brought
us together that
this moment would last.
he’d look at me,
i knew he was looking at me
but i didn’t look. i couldn’t
look
the parkway was empty. like we were on another
plane of existence.
alternate reality.
it felt too real.
i was shivering, holding on to his strong
arm, his hand on my thigh slowly creeping
up.
“i like the way you hold my arm, it’s nice.”
he said
i was holding on a little too tight.
oddmanout Jun 2018
I don't want you to need me

I know you're independent
You can do it on your own
You're in charge of your own life
and you set the tone

But how does breakfast in bed sound
for every Sunday wake up
Or maybe some reassurance
You're beautiful with no make up

You can explore the world alone
But why not take me with you
I pack snacks for car rides
and a road trip is overdue

You can buy yourself roses
Every Friday after work
but isn't it a bit better
if I delivered them with a smirk

I guess my point is
I know things would turn out okay
If you were by yourself
You'd be fine at the end of the day

But isn't it more fun
Cooking dinner with me
Don't you think we have a shot
At really being happy

Life alone can have excitement
but often has a lack thereof
so let me be your companion
And let's fall in love

I don't want you to need me
I need you to want me
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