"greezy" poems
Put genitals in your mouth
No one bats an eye
Eat a chip off the floor
After five seconds
People lose their ****
Whirl down Cupid’s Hill
Post office bound
Island air and golden sun bars
Through moon roof
Corner pocket
Western union
Mow down island dogs
Kintaro
Please mow down as many as possible
You love dogs?
I do too.
But, no, it’s the humane thing to do
Otherwise they cry all night
With suicide eyes
But no pointer fingers to
Pull the trigger
Or tug-of-war
A baby piglet in half
Red spray painted
Toe nails
And
I lose sleep
And get nasty with
Unsuspecting writing students
All day Thursday
And
Besides
It’s not like they
Won’t be dinner for
Your neighbors
anyway
Be weary
Menwai are tricky here
Find one who is the ****
And spend your time with them
Better yet
Choose a westernized local
Someone who knows and
Respects both sides
Because
For some reason
Menwai lack any ******* semblance
Of depth and loyalty
In paradise
No, no
If you want integrity and honesty
A westernized local is the way to go
You dig
Because who knows if that
One Adonis
“Friend” of yours won’t
Keep a secret local girl friend
Locked away in his forbidden,
No trespassing 4TY apartment
And **** all the girlfriends
You confided your feelings in
For said
Statuesque Portland haling
Lawyer
“Friend”
In your apartment
Lies
Fairytales
And fallacies
Get me off this rock
If only for a weekend
On Black Coral or Nahlap
I can eat ramen for days
Ratted, greezy and
Scattered-ass ramen packs
Two Kool-aid red fingertips
Away from grasping
Something that at least
RESEMBLES confidence
And security
Because when your
“Curls and Gurls”
Best Peace Corps mate
Isn’t around to make you
Laugh till tears
Laugh at the absurdity
So that you can feel:
“At Last!
Grounded.”
You allow your brain and heart to
Meet in that covert cloud
Looming above
Decrepit Kolonia-town
But,
But:
THE TEEJ MALI says:
More free
More free
So far surviving slum and street
Wearing these scars
Just as he is meant
To be
So you know *****
Gonna be alright
Soon
Apr 1, 2014
Apr 1, 2014 at 9:23 PM UTC
It's like a distant call of a well known ghost.
Change breath's heavy apon the wind.
She yerns to know the other end of rejection.
Two broke souls rich in the passion of a uncertin day.
No money can touch that excitment of just what comes next.
Sweet mercey we exist on a favor we cant repay.
A old radio and room no bigger than postage stamp.
***** windows give the best moonlit visions indeed.
Five star dream's I'll take a greezy burger and cold beer
my hand inbetween her thighs.
Her eye's speak the direction we shall take.
A devilish grin a twisted snake of plessure
leading to a old bed's dusty retreat.
But millions can't taste this moment.
Inside her plessure I grasp a key turned towards
the locked vessel to which she does give.
My nights are rich in splendor.
And a endless river in thought.
Feb 28, 2011
Feb 28, 2011 at 5:27 PM UTC