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I’ve made friends
with the half-dead
spider
in my bathroom;

we watch each other’s
attempts at crawling
every morning-

him, in any
general direction,
and me,
to ease my stomach
into the toilet bowl.

he cheers for me
as I retch
and retch
and throw up
a little
stomach bile,

spit,
wipe my mouth,
thank my audience;

he’s my
best friend,
but he
doesn’t drink
unfortunately.
Noses are hard to pick
With mouths I can be chewsy
Better eyes are hard to spot
Because my favorite face is you-sie
The Moon is a moon
The Sun is a sun,
And we are each other's
****, I ****** this poem up.
What do it, he do
Jonny do, his black shoe
Living simply, lives his life
For nineteen years he lived
Daring to punch holes, breathe, achoo

Boyish fun, little time I had with you
You said goodbye before I could
Lips heavy, a hubbub smell of Klein
**** me with a broken ****
Tiny as Poseidon’s pool

You come with an Atlantic hug
Pouring my beautiful cotton over you
Near the waters and sheets off
Nausea! I pray you recover my blue
Balm, adieu

Your Chinese tongue, in this Bogan dream,
Lifted by my Caucasian club dance
Of zest, zest, zest
Funniest meeting you, you dandy ham
My Math teacher.

Says you’re a good dozen or two
Could let out my strangeness for you
Put your foot, on my insane root
Then I could feel good for you
But your tongue is stuck in my face.

Midnight rant with ramen coma.
Ugh, Ugh, Ugh, Ugh
We can hardly speak after
I thought every Jonathan was you.
Here comes the language of sighs

A camera, a camera,
Clicking pictures like a curse
A picture to your phone, apple eyes,
I began to talk like Siri.
I think I may well be dreaming.

I have always liked your sincerity,
With your backpack, and your gooeygoo lips
And your light moustache,
And your different lids, softly blinking
I’ll sleep well on your body, Lover-man, O You-

No *** for you, but Nietzsche would be okay too
Virtues still squeak through
Every girl adores good patience
The picture I have of you,
I can see love on your patient chin

You’re at the top Jonny,
Let’s try not break our pretty red hearts in two
I was seventeen when I met you
At sixteen I tried to die
And get back, back, back with someone new

You pulled me out of the sack,
And you stuck me together with glue
And then I knew what I wanted to do.
I made myself the best model for you,
A poet in a sundress with a crazed look.

And now a Love of the beauty and the beast.
I said I’m the beast, not you
So Jonny, I’m happiest through.
Months of friendship if you want to know,
Jonny, you can love me too

There’s something you can make out of my fat heart
A dancing accessory for you
I’ll be dancing for you,
From the hospital to library, I knew it was you.
Jonny, Jonny, you Lover-man, I do, I do love you.
For Jonathan.G
Inspired by Plath
Brothers;
no words can describe mine.

They are crazy,

                  and funny,

                         and sometimes they whine.

Sometimes I hate them,

                sometimes they overwhelm.

Sometimes I cry because of them,

                because they mean more to me than any gem.

Sometimes I think that I've just had enough,

                 but I always remember that it's brotherly love.
I have two younger brothers, and then I'm speechless. I love them with all of my heart, though sometimes they're just a pain in the neck. *** made me lucky enough to have two younger brothers, so I might as well love them and treasure them while I still can.
She lay and wait by the tree
reading her exciting book.
She felt a chilly breeze
at her face as the trees shook.

Intrigued in her reading,
she read how the town was saved
and everyone was happy at the end
and new beginnings were paved.

She look at her watch
and couldn't believe the time!
It was 11:00,
and the bus was supposed to be at 9.

She was engrossed in her book,
she completely missed the bus.
Now when she will have to walk home
and her mother will make a fuss!
Spicy Digits Dec 7
I get excited by naps
giddy after one wine
make-up itches my face
always wake up after nine
one tea on the hour
one bath every week
two bags under the eyes
two once-perky cheeks
gardening is my ******
libraries, my *******
silence is my saucy lover
- noise equals pain
my hair is lush, healthy
because I wash it rarely
my legs are nice and smooth
because I let them grow hairy

But, on the count of 30

I am more resilient than before
I have a bessa-block mind
mixed with a molten-gold heart
of softness and wisdom, refined.
Spicy Digits Dec 7
You farted on me with a smile
so I waited for one to rise
- the unsuspecting lap vacater,
you set up your own demise.

Straight-faced chats on poos
midnight dancing on *****,
long days of noise and stress
finish on a bedtime imgur peruse

Both of us vow to lose weight
as both of us finish our pies
we are each other's yin and yang
to love and hold and chastise.

Your armpit smells like lumberjack ***
your skin like every inch of home
I want to be one half of our future,
I want to mix our chromosomes.

I love you.
the pastor drives
to church,
arrives by
half-six

to ring the bells
for ***
with a burning passion;

ringing those
******* bells
as if
Judgement Day
is just around
the corner.
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