flores de miel flores de piel flores
calientes salían de david burnham
quieto en el aire frío lunar
sin remedio sin adioses sin Dios

¡ah david burnham!
su clavícula clavada en el cosmos era la que más
florecía
extrañas vidas daba para la época
en que la gente era infeliz

y preguntaba ¿cómo era el niño david en la clase
de inglés?
nunca se supo cómo era
pero está quieto entre fulgores
su cabeza se la come la luz

david burnham amó ese final
no quiso a la tierra ni al agua
como cantaba al disolverse
inclinado hacia el sol

que le tapó las manos los ojos los pies
cuidándolo como a palomo ciego
en tanto cae la noche padre y madre
como oso silencioso

las cuatro caras del dolor se apagaron
para david burnham navegando o ardiendo todavía
dulce dulce
detrás del espectáculo

así terminó david burnham se le caía un polvo fino
como jazmín donde avanza la noche
aplasta y se perfuma
¡ah solo en el espacio!

I want to beat you to death with a blunt object

I want to get one of those high end fashion mannequins grab them by the ankles and bash your ribcage in

I want to sharpen 5 pencils, bind them with a rubber band, put them in your mouth and punch the erasers

I want to strap you to a bead of nails then strap that bed of nails to the hood of my car so I can watch you suffer as we drive over speed bumps on a mall parking lot during an earthquake

I want you to somehow survive a terrible car crash and somehow not survive a small fender ****** on the way back from the hospital

I saw the morning dew betwixt thine thighs
As I removed my source of Grecian power
As if King Midas dared to touch the skies
Upon thy body fell a *******

Thy body's temples, two church bells had rung
Upon thy chest, a row of pearls bestowed
The sun had set, thy set with wary hung
I thought, "How black a night and blue a lode"

I said, "What light through yonder ****** breaks?
It is the yeast"

And now my belly's yellow
My pole gives cause to storms and earthy quakes
But 'tis not massive, I am no Othello

And when that final moment came to pass
Like Christ I came-a riding on an ***

by Arcassin Burnham




In this place with you tonight,
i could only walk in denim jeans,
holding your waste while we dance tonight,
i dont want to make you flea the scene,
And i'm looking hella cool,
and your looking so gorgeous,
no telling what we'll do,
Cause the night is flawless,
teenage love dont last forever,
And true love is in fairytales,
why can't you be the one and do better,
nobody cant stop our ship that sails,

too many pretty girls in dresses,
its hard not to stare at them,
she said boy i hoped you learned your lesson,
and i said girl the night won't end with them,
And i'm looking hella cool,
and your looking so beautiful,
no telling what we'll do,
Cause the night is so wonderful,
and teenage love dont last forever,
And true love is in fairytales,
why can't you be the one and do better,
nobody cant stop our ship that sails.

Can you see me standing here?
High above you all so tall?
Don't you worry,  never fear,
I'll never let anyone else feel small.

Tired of the sight of seeing you lonely,
No one in this world is perfect,
Protect you from this cruel world,
Only if you bring me your sympathy,
Showering me in your stories,
And bring me so much joy and laughter,
Perishing all your worries,
Creating a new amiable chapter.

Right here and now,
The time is right.
I've seen your struggle,
I've seen your plight.
I'm here to help,
Lending a strong hand
I'll never let you go,
Please understand.
This is truth,  
This is the light.
I won't let you down,
We'll win this fight.

You were the greatest,
You were my strafe,
I vowed the world,
To keep you safe,
There's no denying,
This is your home,
This is your life,
This is your place,
I only want the best for you,
I'd be glad to see your face.

I smile upon you, keeping this sacred vow,
To stand by your side, even if we journey through hell.
There is no use, trying to ask me how,
No, we will not hide, until the evil we cross has fell.

And as it burns,
You finally get what you wished for.
Don't ever lose a turn,
Play your cards right , don't draw blood , draw fours.
The only thing I need from you is love,
You know what they say,
Love is an open door.

We can walk through,  
Hand in hand.
Following along,
With the ultimate plan.
It's now or never,
Time to choose.
Either way, together,
We can never lose.

BY Arcassin Burnham





when they came tumbling,
in my mind very troubling,
lungs and feeling of dumping,
but i'm so done with everything,
eyes changing , and my age elevating,
red skies , i cant see the radiating,
of the walls.

By Arcassin Burnham





when you looked in to my eyes,

i had the strangest feeling,

flying rodents in my tummy,

retro waves came rolling in,

witches and their brooms,

soldiers at war , fighting and weaponry,

car crashes into the lake, with fire and debris,

clowns making entertainment amusing at the circus,

make you happy with one kiss unless its worth it,

stuck in a dream wave,

retro waves that came rolling in.

by Arcassin Burnham


Daisy,
im falling in love with you,
Daisy,
follow the land of virtue,

Daisy,
looking to have a child,
Daisy,
i have not been here awhile,

if we go insane together in pain,
jesus will thank for shouting his name,

Daisy,
give me a moment to breathe,
Daisy,
why dont you want me to leave,

Daisy,
maybe we could sang a song,
Daisy,
we all could get along,

if we make this last forever in time,
look no forward as the sun shines,

Daisy.

by Arcassin burnham





she carried on
when she didnt have any strength,
and all the rumors was stopping her from
from talking to hank,
the boy in third grade class
that she had eyes for,
long hair and think glasses,
and she thought she ugly before,
confidence grew inside
like a new brain cell,
forgetting all the gossips
can nobody stop the sight of prevail,

and nothing would me more proud,
and nothing would me more proud
you finally got the guy you wanted,
nothing would make me more proud,
nothing would make me more proud,
told you could make it,
just like i promised.

well... feminism has had its three waves
of revisionism -

    and there i'm sitting on
the windowsill,
   smoking out of my window -

watching the moon sloth the sky like
an demonic snail -

in the misty haze of a large patch
of cumulonimbus -
    right up there at around 50,000 feet...

thinking to myself?
   why are there two orbs of varying
light concentration
penetrating the sky
   and embedding the moon
in an eerie aura?

never mind -
   i still don't know what the chemical
formula for timber is,
or what sort of material is on
the moon that allows it to reflect
light from the other side
of the Greenwich Mean Time...

last time i heard: can a rock surface
reflect light?

          well then... ah... never mind...

but feminism has had its three waves
of instigation and two subsequent
waves of revisionism -

so it made me think:
   why not a second wave of fascism?
a revisionist wave...
    well... as far as i am concerned
the Italians were much paler -
   in their intentions than the Germans...

fascism 2.0 -
and the sort of fascism that would allow
me to be men...
    drunks, foul mouthed, you name it...
athletic, not-giving-a-**** losers of
sorts, among the glam of whatever else
it is that a man is...

working on the idea,
i had to think of a list -

   hmm...

          who then?
ah!

      Stanley Kowalski
   (from a streetcar named desire)...
John Wayne
  (notably from true grit)
    Charlton Heston
(from the planet of the apes)
   Tony Curtis...
              Hemingway,
Bukowski,
               Ezra Pound...
     Clark Gable
    Gregory Peck
                   the list is seemingly
endless -
   at least in the portrayal of
said characters...
ah... ****!
   Kevin Spacey as
Lester Burnham to boot!
            ah... double ****:
Denzel Washington as
Troy Maxson...
    because apparently "being"
a "poet" is little more than
the lesser stature
of a garbage man...
             unless of course:
you fiddle into a cosmopolitan
fixture.

    oh... and certainly an appreciation
for a traditional Turkish barber
shop...

something very much akin / borrowed
from America circa 1950s...
   and an unabashed sensibility
concerning good tailoring -
   but then also the prophetic
vagabond look from time to time...

just a vague idea -
    but something along these lines -
but then again, what a silly idea -
what is racial purity in
21st century England?
   some sort of vague notion
       of an even vaguer dream?

but i guess the notion of
individualistic purity:
   the purity of the individual is related
more to: who can and who won't
be swayed by alien opinions -
2nd or 3rd party -

        which includes this opinion...

i'd subscribe to put the idea on
the following zenith:

              grammatical cleanliness -
linguistic order -
            a literary tact -
   something along these lines -

after all: the 20th century is not the end
of a theory -
given 20th century communism this,
while 21st century socialism that...
ideas prevail...
   evolve - or devolve - regress
or make alternative progress -

               also given:
    there already is a fascist movement
elsewhere, other than in England -
where: it would be completely
impractical -
                  
                       prime tenet would also
be, what it already shows:
   non-expansionism of a culture
or a people -
                           more akin to
American isolationism under
                                                  F.D.R.:
i­ have a strange sentiment
for that president.

By Arcassin Burnham

My queens , My queens , the only thing that means so
much to me is how much you wear you skin so
comfortable.
So lovely ,lovely , like black diamonds standing in the
rough , you could have short hair ,I'd still want you.
Don't try to be something your not, we all know how this goes,
You just want to impress your ghetto friends.
Two eyes , three eyes, I could see love that's pouring out of
you, you're divine, babe I need you now.

Melanin Queen,
Queen,
Queen,
Queen , Queen.
Melanin Queen,
Queen,
Queen,
Queen,Queen.

by Arcassin Burnham




flowing like the earths motion when i take a puff,
blowing out some the gunga,
could you help me up,
ambient as all things,
when its dark and quiet,
hand structures and wedding rings,
your mind is not alined,

too many ******* in this world,
suppertime,
if you find the time to pick up the pieces,
it will be fine,
hopefully,
let yourself be the host of your own enemy,
of get therapy to comfort you,
havent been right since elementary,
hoping they all turn against you,
and look!!! there it goes!!,
cant remember the first time i ate a mango.

Midnight.....
There is no sound in the forest -
only the phantom murmur
of the far wind
and the wind's shadow drifting
as smoke
through ebon branches; there a single star
glistens in the heart of night....
A star!
Look skyward now...
and see above...INFINITY
Vast and dark and deep
and endless....your heritage:
Silent clouds of stars,
Other worlds uncountable and other suns
beyond numbering
and realms of fire-mist and star-cities
as grains of sand....
drifting...
Across the void....
Across the gulf of night....
Across the endless rain of years....
Across the ages.
Listen!
Were you the star-born you should hear
That silent music of which the ancient sages spoke
Though in silent words...
Here then is our quest
and our world
and our Home.
Come with me now, Pilgrim of the stars,
For our time is upon us and our eyes
shall see the far country
and the shining cities of Infinity
which the wise men knew
in ages past, and shall know again
in the ages yet to be.
Look to the east....there shines
the Morning Star...soon shall the sunrise come...
We await the Dawn,
Rise, oh eternal light;
Awaken the World!
With trumpets and cymbals and harp and the sound
of glad song!
And now...
The clouds of night are rolled away;
Sing welcome to the Dawn
Rise, oh eternal light;
Awaken the World!
With trumpets and cymbals and harp and the sound
of glad song!

By Arcassin Burnham

At times,  when times,
When I fight beside the people I wanna trust it ends bad.
Making rumors,
rumors that'll make you **** yourself and ruining things that you had.
Quiet and shy,  shy now even still incased in the big old brute of a shell.
I've been hurting inside, inside of my mind, lost in this mean matrix,
Can't you tell.
My exes lie beside me,  keyword lie,
And I will never trust another girl again.
Filling pieces,  pieces of my heart I threw in the trash in desperate dens.
Love is another form, forms of weakness,
Don't you let it all go to your big head.
Lives are on the line , the line of destruction and you feel your life is so dead.

BY ARCASSIN BURNHAM





waitin for the  mornin to open its eyes,
Shes waitin for me,
but dosent know that dawn has found me,
she mocks the sun,
your ignorance is a bliss,
one step from a kiss,
i guess i should have known better,
so beautiful as love itsself,
But inside,
evil as sin,
when,
when will the morning come,
love aint going anywhere,
im always here.

.english black humour is peppered with sarcasm,
english humour is sarcasm...
watching the gaelic version
is like watchings the irish try to be subtle by being rude,
doesn’t work... normas proved it defeating the saxons...
and subsequently the celtic brides roared in encore!
it really doesn’t work... the polish fraction of me still intact
to remind me of the biology that still works served
the reminder: polish history is still orientated
on the european continent, eastern europe
is not a segregated "continent" that might contend
with england and france being ante-antarctica...
never engage a celt with british humour for guy fawkes or anyone
else in the missing ditto;
celtish or cultish... i never quiet know...
enter the celtish brides... encouraging the advent of copulation
and the excesses of tax to build linear ceramic imprints
of broken bricks, that made it into ratio of
the chiseled brick worth a heavyweight contention with
heated mortar dough; oh right, pooh bear you're offended...
deal with it! unless your uncle is denoted as
adolf ****** and you want him resurrected!
shakespeare never wrote the play: the merchant of mecca,
did he? poor shylock... i was almost caught in admiration
of what english students at 16 thought of that national pride...
known as the *****-bride to **** for an A at a-level.

they still sound out of breath,
out of anything,
esp. words...
they all sound to totem no animal
rather than an ****
which in ceramic wilderness
sounds like wild ****...
where’s the monochromatic monotone
of the drunken sailor going by the name
of st. peter?
fisherman turned sailor... that’s a first...
why didn’t jesus pick barabbas rather than judas?
was it cain that got in the way?
i bet it was. well nox awaits both thief and murderer...
those engaged with rabbanic arts
tend to treat dreams less seriously...
and those that don’t tend to treat dreams more seriously...
those that treat dreams seriously endear the sole
escapism of reality quite seriously...
and for those that don’t... well... there’s the zodiac algebra
and that’s right for a mummified expression
that was bandaged into a circumcised *******.

p.s.
rhyming poetry has spawned the most pointless
ibhibitions of rhythm poetics,
all the current poets sound
    verärgert... exasperated...
    is everyone seriously a ******* goldfish
catching their breath a second time?!
you want to know the most fun thing
i've ever did, today?
i started to tickle my maine ****'s
inner ear with a chicken's egg...
he raised his paw,
he tried to scratch himself...
"something" there was a schizophrenic
violing playing in his cranium,
rather: the temple of his ear...
i was lucky in having to: kitzteln (titillate)
him with an egg...
a chicken abortion i'd probably
consume come tomorrow's breakfast
hour...

             he felt it, the giggles...
the giggles from annoyance being rubbed
the "wrong way"...
so much to say about a woman
whom i attempted to pick a nose
in earning affection of seeing:
the "green fairy" take a ****,
take to farting, breaking the magic of
the feminine persona of "unfathomable" /
unfailable...

            genius: an egg inserted
into a cat's ear to tickle... eating an abortion
the next morn...
                                    all the woes
of the world seem so insignificant when
you buy into feline idiosyncracies...
after all... there's no leash...
no kaganiec...
             there is no stipend associated
with the timing of walkies...
cats are perfectly disorientated by
their own selves: or rather,
their senses...

              you learn atheism from people,
but?! you learn solipsism from cats!
you learn atheism to sound
intellectually superior, sound,
"sensible"...
solispsism you learn from cats...
god or no god...
you are first, you are the last,
while god? "someone" in the middle...
can god be associated to pronouns?
or is god a pure noun: excavation
machina pro grata?
well... if god was ever a person,
being, anti-tool...
wouldn't "he" be a persona non grata?!
well then!
  machina pro grata:
                the noun spin "mr."...

man was never in search of god:
the objective reality remained true as
it always remained...
man was forver bound to the search
of god: via the subjective
personification of said "object"...

      how do you think the muslims
deal with this conundrum?!
they think they are gratifying everyone
else with an objective reality
of god, while they themselves,
with the polytheistic splinter of the gods,
are themselves searching for
the subjective reality of their god...
a person, a personality...
to the muslims their god speaks
the same objective truth as the sort
of truth a pagan might adhere to...
they want to know: a person to speak to,
rather than an object they can throw...

modern poetry when performed is ****,
it all sounds the same...
that overtone of exasperation...
me? i'm not speaking...
itchy finger-tips: idle hands:
the devil's due...
      i'm not speaking among these
youths... it's like that h'american beauty
quote...

ricky fitts: but it helps me remember...
i need to remember...
sometimes there's so much beauty in the world,
i feel like i can't take it,
     and my heart is just going to cave in.

lester burnham - whatever he said
about the balloon not being filled with helium...
but with all the bureucratic custody
via custard like some zeno paradox
of a tortoise outrunning achilles...
               the beauty can remain...
to enchant the easily impressionable...
after all: you "only live once"!
the beauty will always remain...
hence the seasons...
               but there's only one
impressionable aspect of this reality...
the thought you leave with...
the thought, implying:
the lost aspect of a moral (th)ought
to be envisioned in it not being
sentenced to a maxim
    or a proverb...
                       or a lesson...
after all... once man grows old:
he's no longer fond of learning,
but overtly eager to teach...
         i'm neither... 33...
who am i to learn from or teach for?
teaching by mistakes?
       no one really teaches by example...
unless on a pure technical canvas
associated with a trade or a tool...
which life is neither!

what is the west selling as their... "capitalism"...
their next ponzi scheme of "made in... chi'nah?!"
this, this is capitalism?!
i remember days when gap shirt
lifted the words: made in canada....
quality... would last you 20 years...
the wool wouldn't thin, the colours
wouldn't fade...
                    capitalism my ***, these days!
i came to the promised land,
i remained: with broken bones
            and ****** make-up tutorials....

for all the belief in man,
and this, non-existent fear of god,
savvy,
      upon the sacred altar of
the debauchery of prometheus,
upon the sacrifices of a.i. atlas...
upon: will electricirty ever replace fire...
who stole the rod of zeus
beside promothian thief who came
back with the eternal fire of Odin?
who?!
my kindred: alas!
                     and to what end?!
to the end without any surprise...
for the cosmopolitan cul de sac:
screaming at a brick wall pretending
to talk to one one but brick!
    
  i too visited: Krzyżtopór, in the village of Ujazd,
   Iwaniska commune, Opatów County...
how... the categories congregated
with implosions to make a ground:
specific...
  what would be the categorical imperative
for the congregative consumate
orientation of said narrative?

     even my grandfather remembers
the famous debackle concerning
Alfried Krupp von Bohlen und Halbach...
i do come from a family
of metallurgy... or coal-mining...
  both as true as these coal-riddle hands
supposing ink in pixel...
  
come on... the Schwerer Gustav?
the gun of all guns?! the one with the sort
of recoil that demanded train lines
to incubate the impact?!

modern, spoken, poetry, bores, me...
it's simply exasperated...
  exasperated by rhyme,
exasperated with rhyme,
exasperated outside of rhyme...
i'm listening to clones...
i don't won't to write modern poetry,
simply because:
i will not recoil with a take
on modern poetry...
  i don't do exasperated...
as much as i adore olivia gatwood's:
manic pixie dream girl...
yes, a ref. to the garden state movie...
the shins: new slang...
yeah... i did that **** in edinburgh...
climbing the scaffold...
erected around new college...
dancing on the roof with myself at night...
watching the *****-bank fluoride
white above the firth of forth one night...

but that's what i find really evil...
you know how in the movies,
the actors and actresses brush their teeth...
but never rinse?!
instead? keep that toothpaste in their mouths?!
******* never rinse!
that's evil... i'll tell you:
brush witha  pea-sized dollop, then rinse...
all the movies you see will never show you
a person rinse their teeth after brushing...
you should look into rinsing...
and? you'll never lose weight by going
to the gym...
you'll get stretch-marks, for sure...
there are only two ways to lose weight:
bicycle or swim...
swim or bicycle... better... both!

going to the gym will not help you...
you'll need plastic surgery!
but hollywood movies are evil this way...
they portray people washing their teeth
without spitting out the excess toothpaste
and not rinsing their mouths...
with water...

            who does that?!
hollywood is the next dentistry monopoly?!
pea sized amount of paste,
at the end of the day will do,
and then please spit,
then rinse with water...
don't just do what hollywood bad teeth
brigade do...
keep that paste in your mouth
like car battery acid / fluoride!

   pea sized brush once a day,
spit, rinse... slide your tongue over
your teeth to feel the sheen of
           ivory mingling with glass.

i hate modern poetry, why is everyone pretending
to be asthamtic, exasperated, out-of-breath?
with the same punctuation "all of a sudden"?
**** if i'm going to speak,
i'm not speaking...
             not in this climate...
edinburgh 2006...
  that's when i wanted to speak...
but then my eyes stole my tongue and told me
to listen.
i've been listening every since...
and...
i haven't even registered one hearing
of an echo since then.

By Arcassin Burnham


I'll never have a dance with a girl that I've
Had my eye on since the first day,
I'll never see the neon lights and all ball room
Fights they like to have in these good days,
There's more to being a boy sitting all alone
And never being on the dancefloor,
But do I give a **** about all those things I'll
Never get to explore....
At Senior Prom,
At Senior Prom,
At Senior Prom.....

So when I hear them talk about the life I've always lost about
What to wear and what car to drive,
Or if I say I never wanted the same to go through what every generation
Has to go through they'll step on my pride,

Ain't the **** supposed to be segregated away,
Don't wanna live in reality,everything is just a phase,
What if I gave all of my time and never let it go to waste,
It's funny how life works , nobody will dance with me anyway,
At Senior Prom,
At Senior Prom,
At Senior Prom.

by Arcassin Burnham




she was 5'2,
black hair,
long nails,
prettiest personality,
hair flowing through the wind whispfully,
all round person as you can see,
but me,
i wasn't very talkable,
and even my darkest hour,
i wouldn't hold her accountable,
i swear feels like eachday would last til an eternity,
so grateful when i saw her,
and she noticed me,
wasn't in the best of moods,
she saw tthem in my body language,
picking out different girls to make me happy later,
i was astonished,
every night in her room talking about different things,
like the wedding dresses and the wedding rings,
not knowing i would do anything to make her say,
i love you and i do,
hoping the feelings change,
just know that i love you too,
going to the mall picking things out to make her smile,
since her last boyfriend haven't seen that in awhile,
thinking about the features,
if we had a child...

By Arcassin Burnham


Fed up and in a bad place,
These aren't just emotions of anger and regret for
The situation at hand and the problems
That they are trying to reflect on america to start
Something we could not come back from,
Race wars,
Afraid to ride my bike down the street
Because of racism,
Afraid to date Caucasian girls because of racism,
Afraid to be black but proud,
Because of racism and these crooked white cops
That hide behind badges like cowards and pick away piece by piece at
The people that hasn't started any war since the assassination of
Martin Luther,
Any rule you abide by in law,
They'll still shoot ya,
And make it seem like you struggled or make it seem like
You tried to grab the gun from the holster and fight your way out,
"I'm not resisting ,.,... Stop shoving me , stop punching me , you
******* *****!!!!!",
Naughty by nature , but my mannerism's heaven sent,
When will these cops (pigs),
Stop killing our people and making families moarn,
We're all created by God , so why do y'all just leave people
Torn,
America Peace with love and prayers to my brown skin angels,
It's bad enough with black on black crime at every angle,
Y'all ******* up!!!
Protest , peace treaties , Misunderstood riots,
Using this against us ------> " You Have The Right To Remain Silent",
**** That!!!!!
Yelling to the world that the Justice system is biased,
What's drakest must come to light , well the future's at its brightest,
I love all races , I have white friends,
I wonder would Jesus come When the world ends,
But can't end it with a race war,
I'm ready to spread the word if you are,
Doing it for the kids and the poor.

You ******, exotic,
Beautiful creature.

I could not be more intrigued by you.

I drove,
46 miles,
just to meet you,
you screamed at me for being late.
I wasn't.
I just live farther from your perspective than you can imagine.

I saw your face,
then I saw your eagerness,
Then I played this game,
Where I googled every word you said,
became an expert on it.
Throwing back refferences to things
i've never seen.

When I rolled in with my cigarette lit,
Sporting my badboy leather jacket,
you asumed I was this rebel.
This dangerous,
adventurous,
amazing creature.
Dropped onto this earth to entertain you.

Today.
That's exactlly what I am.

I'm 46 miles away from my home town.

My foam swords,
magic the gathering cards,
Dungeon and dragons playing self
Packaged tightly in the lockbox at my bedroom door.

The daddy, I became years ago
because I wanted too.

The lover I was raised to be,
watching nothing but romantic comedies my entire childhood
like some sort of propaganda to be the perfect boyfriend.
Tucked crisply into my bed.

My smolder is a gas mask.
you are the poison gas.
It was invented specifically for me to survive when I'm in the trenches with you.
My attitude is an army.
I hold myself like a commander shouting orders at my mind like it needs a leader.

“Stop calling her beautiful, maggot! She wants you to take charge.”

“Sir, yes sir!”

...So uh...
What do you wanna do today?

“What do you think you're doing?
Don't give her options!
Tell her where you're going!”

“Sir, yes, sir”

We're getting coffee.

We go to her favorite coffee house, I guessed.

She gets a nutella mocha.

I get a 16oz almond milk maple syrup latte

She calls me a hipster,
I laugh, I don't disagree.

I give her the radio,
“You pick the music”

“What do you think you're doing maggot!?”

“trust me,
we need to find out what music she likes before I play my music.
It's very important.”

I can pull brilliance out of any genre,
bands she's never heard of, but she'll fall in love with.
She plays show tunes.

Oh...

... Jackpot!

I start the conversation, you ever heard of Rocky Horror?

You ever hear of
Doctor Horribles Sing Along Blog?

You ever hear of
Little Shop of Horrors?

You ever hear of
Repo, The Genetic Opera?

You ever hear of
Hedwig and The Angry Inch?

She has.
All of it.
Every last word.
And she knows all of the words.
In fact,
every song I sing,
she sings along.
Word for word.

I  crack the whip,

you ever heard of Bo Burnham?

She has.

This girl might be the one.

“What do you think you're doing maggot?
Don't fall in love with this girl already,
Don't fall in love with this girl at all.”

“Sir, yes, sir”

We walk the beach,
Singing,
Dancing.
Every word of every song either of us start the other knows all the words.
She's breathtaking.
I can't believe it happened myself.
We chase each other in the sand.

I confess.

“You're actually the first person i've seen in real life from tinder...
I hear all these stories of couples meeting people for threesomes online and then murdering them.
I was half expecting you to **** me.”

She says:

“Well we didn't get to the end of the beach yet.”

I laugh.... wait... is she serious?

She laughs. “No really, i'm a sociopath.
My boyfriends waiting at the rocks down there and when we
Start to **** he's gonna jump out and slit your throat.
The redness of your blood spilling on the rocks is going to make me so,
*******,
Wet.”

This sounds like a great Idea.

She texts her boyfriend and asks if it's okay to kiss me.
When he doesn't reply she spams him.

Babe.

Babe.

C'mon Babe.

Really, Babe.

Babe.

Babe.

Babe.

It starts to rain,
We stay and get soaked together,
We don't care that we're wet, we keep singing.
The rain stops.
We get in my car.
I drive her to portland,
We park in the parking garage,
because i don't understand...
Signs...

I buy her dinner,

Not because it's the polite, gentlemanly thing to do,
I'd do that without the leather jacket, no.
because her sugar was low
she was having a panic attack
her boyfriend and her were probably breaking up and I felt bad.
Her boyfriend finally texts her back.

“Yeah, do what you want.”

I kiss her.

She asked me too before he gave permission, and my colonel said to do it

But I've been on the otherside of that text messege.

And even knowing what she wanted, I was waiting for that reply.
I don't know that boy.

But he deserved that

We go back to the parking garage, and she does not waste time,
My belt undone,
Her mouth eager,
Did I mention that this was the mission?
After awhile She asks to go to the back.
We do.
She removes the leather jacket.
this is her chance to wear
The leather jacket.
I make her ***,
I have this brief thought that maybe she faked it for me, but then
I can taste the truth,
I'm proud.


“Good job, maggot.”

“Sir, thank you, sir”


I drive the 46 miles back to kennebunk to drop her off.
She keeps my shirt.
I get home and find her phone charger in my backseat.
“Looks like we have a second date,"

I text her. “you forgot something, beautiful.
And I think you might want it.”