-

I am impure
I tell myself
silently, as
you hold me
down and
violently
**** the
living ****
out of me
.
.
I must admit,
I really needed it

Thank you for Matching
the Tinder Call Center.
My name is Nick and I will be helping you with your order today.
And your name is?

Hello, Port Veritas

I'm so glad you called
because you do qualify
as one of the first 100 people
I find attractive!

So Where are you from?
Oh Wow, I've never been there,
you ever Been here to Bull Feeney's?

No? Well look at that,
I guess we've never been
too each others places before.
Hah!

Looks like we have something
in common.

What was it on my profile that got you interested in swiping right?
Oh I see, you like love poems,
you like new ****,
you just wanna make everyone cry.

How long have you been interested in that?
Wow that's a long time.

What else have you tried
to hear love poems,
see new ****
and make people cry?

Wow that's...

that's kinda ****** up Port Veritas.

That's really ****** up.

What's the worst part about dealing with that?
I see, well I'm glad you called.

Tell me a bit
why it's important
to do something about this now;
it's a little different for everyone.

I see, it's Valentine's day. There's a valentines open mic and LOVE SLAM Tonight!

I'm just gonna ask a couple quick questions to see if you qualify,

Will you all answer them for me?

Do You want **** poetry?

**** poetry IS the best sticky note to receive in your eighth grade lunch box

Do you want Radical Self Love?

me too, let's keep looking

Do you want love Poetry?

You just want so many things from me that i can give you.

Do You want people to need a towel by the time you leave the stage!?

You're right, they shouldn't call it dry *******

You know, Port Veritas. I can't wait for you to watch this amazing show we have for you tonight.

As my profile states,
we're gonna give strangers this microphone for four minutes.
Where they are gonna say whatever the hell they want about terrible dates, passionate love, terribly passionate ***.
And that sounds great doesn't it?

Just imagine how wonderful it will feel when
you get up here
picture all these lovlies in their underwear
feel cold and alone
with nothing but your words
and a microphone
Then drop the god ****** heat on us.

Imagine a chorus of ****
and Mmmm and snaps

THAT'S really why you swiped right today, isn't it Port Veritas?

Excellent! Let's get you started!

As you heard, we've put together a Special Package, with this Valentines open mic. A LOVE SLAM.
And an extra free second date when you try this First One for just your body.
Plus, since you're one of the first 100 people I find attractive,
I'm gonna throw in a Third date. so you get three, for the price of one!
And remember that swiping right on a Poetry slam is risk-free because it's backed by our 30-day Text you back guarentee.
So put your name on the sign up sheet.
next to your $3- $5 dollar suggested donation
bus your tables at the end of the night,
Tip your bartender Leah well for putting up with us every week.
use whatever bathroom you ******* want

and one last order of business
to wrap things up
like a good boy practicing
safe ***, who is totally not trying
To get you all pregnant.
when he asks how you like
Your eggs in the morning.

Un-fertilized.

If someone gets up here and says
something during their four minutes
That makes you feel unsafe
you can do one of three things
1. Silently get up, leave the room and come back when you're comfortable
2. Get Nate or myself and tell us to provide floor for a calm discussion.
3. Go home write a ******* poem about it. and bring it back here next week!

Now
WHO'S READY FOR A VALENTINE'S OPEN MIC?!

UP ON DECK
WE HAVE:

The dark side of love
Claws and teeth
I am hungry for you
Short skirt aimed in my direction
I need correction
Some might say
To iron out the kinks
But I think sensuality for the soul
Is sometimes being out of control.

A Close friend said "The Perfect Woman"
is much like a shark.

if I am greeted in this ocean,
by a woman
I will allow her to look at me with all primal intent.
splay my wrist open and watch her

as she smells the little turn of blood
floating now in spirals between us

I'll have done it not for the pain, or shock
but for the honesty.
to watch a creature struggling to hold onto their facade
and the tears that start to bloom in the pink
above their sharp teeth.
Look, I know sharks don't cry.
it's not about the crying,
I crave the visceral emotion.
want to give my body to the indulgence
the electric moment where
I feel them feel conflicted
with my whole body
feel their suffering and internal struggle
in my entire manic smile
tight cheeked
all eyes on them like a paid performer
or Alternatively,
I would give them all this passion,
my body in anticipation of their opening
clenching to their masks,
They Devour me.

Have you considered being a *** worker?
You have a body.
I know you never sleep there,
spend less time breathing than associating with your own ribcage.
You're an actress
no script, just a character summary.

Limp, age 12, non-verbal marionette.
Snaps her strings when forced to dance.
Clings to the ceiling tiles, like the shadows she hallucinates.
Let's the puppet fall numb under strangers.
Ragdoll to be used for kindling.

When you play your part
You'll inherit enough money to afford a studio apartment
in Washington, or Las Vegas; anywhere with men paid large enough salary to afford your vacant body,
three phone plans,
a hotel room for you to stay awake in
Listening to dull thuds against your wrongfully warm corpse
Invited hoping the stinging could form tendons
adhere together like rubber bands
Snap you back into your skin.
You cling helpless to the ceiling tiles
Watch the ragdoll make mistakes.

"Have you considered being a *** worker?"
A homeless woman asked me,
*"Unoccupied bodies should start charging rent.
Let a man who can afford it pay for utilities.
You might be homeless
but you won't be wasted space".

Sometimes I go in
too deep just to see if you
still feel any pain.

The wince on your face,
the sudden drawing of breathe.
Timeless everything.

Sometimes lovely and
maybe just another kink
to get through a night.

The handcuff bites my wrist
as teeth sink, searing flesh.
A breath, a scent too familiar to forget.
Blind.
Massive palms, razor point
carving canyons down my spine,
blood is the wine.
The burn of beard
feigning consent.
Fistfuls of hair conquering words.
A corpse to rob me of life,
the press of perversity against satin.
Fighting, writhing
satisfaction.
Pain swells in every limb
the wet swell reveal my sin.
Slaps stinging awake
every fiber of clothing still keeping me safe.
The drive of possession
splitting secrets wide,
fingers around throat clenching tight.
Sweat running red,
the rising growls growls resonate in my head.
The raw force bruising
like claiming a slave,
body & mind consuming.
Ferocity leads to frenzy,
my senses rage against me,
The thickness rips,
devours,
conquers my body for paradise.
And I scream in the ecstasy taken.
A clenching incites eruptions,
the pulsing beast flooding.
My purpose awakened.

Roomate:
"It's uhh...
...Mad Max role play."

Naked Bound man
center of the room:
*"We get really into character"