Do you remember the day we bought our beers, packed our bags and made our own party on the hill beside our building? It was just you and me and the sun. We were celebrating the first warm day of spring, but you still insisted on stouts, and they quickly lost their cool in the sunlight but I didn't mind. I brought my camera and photographed the wind curling through that blue and green sundress you loved, and you danced as if you were a leaf in autumn.

Until you spilled your beer, to which I reacted only with regrettable anger. You stopped dancing.

That lead us inside, away from the sunlight, to end the memory. You never wore that sundress again, and didn't enjoy those stouts the same way. We never celebrated another change of season, and I never again photographed you in the wind.

Watching a classic
Casablanca Class I Fix
Trix cereal for adults
Goddess sundress
The class act you need to guess
Her fit* no-one would
know vibrant
Getting the OJ of the miracle
Sunbathing at the
     *Pinnacle

His skin news of the
Chronicle
The fix-up finale deeply
in her classic smile
Sunflowers of the sunray  
Tropicana class act deviant play

Quickdraw Gunfire
Her hot tango steps in action
Copacabana
Diamonds no chips
Big tips at the Gentleman
OH! Boy the cabana detention
Class I comes with affection
Kiss is not a kiss without a real scene

In action to miss a classic movie hit
Adventure Trips  flipping homes
In the classified newspaper middle section

She is the Classic with an illuminating passion

I the Classic one and he is
surfing the internet
So fit to be tied but casual love
She the same person wearing her
flip flops
******* off *Root beer float tops
The root of all evil
That She-devil Sire
Not the ordinary campfire

It takes a certain Class, I can fix peoples
problems  like great ***** of fire
We are not signs or perhaps it's in the signs
Emblems
Where you came from no problems
Take action get more satisfaction
Army grenade we are all
fighting in action
Action speaks louder than words
One of a kind the rare find
A classification of her mind
Understand each other
do the hiring
  Trump in action job firing

What drives us and gives us
gratification
We need to love what is above
our minds
I believe sometimes you don't have to be where the action is

The Rainman Rainforest Vacation
You are the I phone off
with the ringer
Classic type Class I
Our computer all rules
codes and passwords
The religious Pope up front
He's the  Marlon Brando waterfront
You have the polka dot bikini

Panera Sandwich Panini
Orange you glad its cantaloupe
He wants to elope
your classic smile
Exclamation point
At Times Square you could
lift her for miles

Whether we look modern
The technology is always out of reach foreign
Or wearing your heart in his heart
Your wiggle walk
The classic style to talk
Fifties **** smoke
Born to be wildlife everything
is on Castaway
Or layaway on hold

And he is athlete runner so hype
Everyone is busy on
Twitter or Skype
The Facebook and photos

Dorothy loves wizardly Oz and Toto
Were all together like
a congregation, not a citation
Living in the city paying rent
Another wicked concert event

How many times did you get that notification?
The auction house in action the bid five times
Those hot leads of crimes
Playing for a nickel heads up dimes
Class act Quarterback
Elephant treasure trunk
ten commandment
Class, I lady leading the way
Class, I fix the parliament
Her classic fifty style army dress in action
Her bullet lips caught quite an attraction

Feeling the comfort food
Mac and Cheese
Silly names those 
 Canadian A&W
ATM Class I
The French fries do or dies
Skinny He's the Ham Mac
You're the spicy Cajun
on the speaker Mic
What classifies everything in
our life
High stunts action cliff taking a dive
**** Bill he kills me all the time

That Buffalo Bill Chicken Mac
Bombastic not the
forever love classic
With a whole list dark Raven
Crystal rock Haven

Everything lately goes so fast
Getting in Saint Anthony fire
She is the livewire
The gunfire or the cease her fire
Out of money  honey bee
******* mansion multiplier
Everything you're
near his or hers
Wineglass stir me
like an amplifier
What happens to your
responsibilities running
racing your own time
The  Coffee man suitor
My Godly dictator
The saltwater taffy-like lava
Comic Disney Pixstar meet Daffy Duck
Or you overqualified being lied too
Oh! Chuck

Like a candle in the wind its in
the science hot steamy
romance engagement
What awaits things to come
getting blown away
It just like any other day

Filter the perfect shade of the forenoon sun,
Not too bright, not too dull.
For with ease and carefree thoughts,
You let the sunbeam-drizzling fairies play
As the beauty reflected in your retinas.

Capture this scenic view:
Where the burnt chestnut colored oaks
And mudstained sweetheart sundress of yours
Dance in three-four beats of waltz.
The Crayola strokes of the skies
And the watercolor streaks of daydreams and nightmares
Paint the canvas of your disquited thoughts.
This is the peripheral view from your suncrashed irises and corners,
This is your world.

Let your knees down to your sore feet
Be engulfed by the chasms of the bewildered grass,
As the smile makes it way to your plump spring lips;
Callused fingers from guitar strings
Twirl and twist the blades,
Cutting through flesh
And green and red and blue and yellow,
All sorts of color came spilling from your playful bruise.

From this panoramic view of yours
Of a wonder wonderland,
Where the ticks of clock
Follow the sunflower throughout time and forever,
This is the beauty of that stem:
A key to escapism
To a well-dreamt lovely world.

East of Mississippi far away from the hustle,
old mills, dirt and muck,
mirth and the muscle...
Where livelihood’s still found resting in the arm,
out past the cities and down on the farm,
Growing up simple cause that’s where we are,
trying to hard and never getting far,
Toiling in the fields or out in a barn,
Well that’s where we are never getting too far,
…but that’s where we are.


I’ll set the stage and you listen here,
is this like any story that you’ve lent to an ear?
I know it’s familiar and everyone should know,
how life takes turns and where it seems to go,
you lead with your heart and love seems to flow...

It was Saturday night and I was at the county fair,
Where every kid hung out, yeah ya’ll know where,
Center of town and east of Mississippi’s
with the young cowboys and the girls were all hippies,
The winds picked up and she shined in the moon,
My heart thumping so hard it made me swoon,
I knew I had to make my move soon,

So I walked right up and grabbed her hand
and spun her around like I had a plan,
We started dancing and wouldn’t you know,
love was on the horizon and that’s how it goes,
From the square that night and back to my car,
small town lovers that’s about as far,
…and I was playing it cool acting Brad Pitt to my best
and asking her to dance was my best guess,
Oh my baby in that sundress!

…and nothing in this world will ever compare, life with her was what I needed to share,

I asked her to marry me right then and there,
Her eyes lit up and the crowd just stared
as the clouds rolled by and the moonlight flared,
She walked right up and grabbed my hand
and stood me up like she had a plan,
and that first kiss was ‘man-o-man’

…and nothing in this world can ever compare to those green eyes and that brown hair and life together is what we’re gonna share and the love in her eyes was always there.

She was so pretty she made me feel old
and that’s our story of love I’ve told.
I know it’s familiar and everyone should know,
how life takes turns and where it seems to go,
How there’s nothing in this world like her sundress
and dancing in the moonlight was my best guess.
County fair, a proposal and our first kiss
and she walked right up to me just like this,

…and nothing in this world can ever compare to those green eyes and that brown hair and life together is what we’re gonna share and the love in her eyes was always there.

She was so pretty she made me feel old
and that’s our story of love I’ve told,
I know it’s familiar and everyone should know,
there’s no work in this world like love to grow,
…and there she was in her sundress
and dancing in the moonlight was my best guess,
County fair, a proposal and our first kiss
and she walked right up to me just like this,

…and nothing in this world can ever compare to those green eyes and that brown hair and life together is what we’re gonna share and the love in her eyes was always there,

East of Mississippi and every town square
where you’ll find her she’ll always be there,
The winds will pick up and she’ll shine in the moon
and your heart will pump so hard it’ll make you swoon,
I know it’s familiar and everyone should know,
how life takes turns and where it seems to go,
How there’s nothing in this world like her sundress
and dancing in the moonlight is a pretty good guess,
County fair, a proposal and the first kiss
and she’ll walk right up to you just like this,

…and nothing in this world can ever compare to those green eyes and that brown hair and life together is what we’re gonna share and the love in her eyes was always there,

I know it’s familiar and everyone should know,
there’s nothing in this world like love to grow…

I’ve tattooed a line across
the veins of my wrist
and marked a down stroke
for every time
“you can’t wear red lipstick”
made me believe
I never wanted to in the first place.

for every time instead
I’ve stained my lips with cherries
learning how to tie the stems
so I can slip forget-me-knots
to the back of your throat—
do you feel my restriction now?

the razors that fly off my tongue
perk thorns on my skin,
another down stroke on my wrist
will teach me that
you were right,
shyness is a virtue.

no need to speak,
go spend one hundred dollars
and some percent for tax
to cover up,
even though I’m sure your mother told you
that cotton stains.

so make it black.
get your hair stuck
in the zipper of that sundress
and pray as you pull it out
that it will lose its pigmentation
in the process
mark a down stroke
for killing two flowers
for one bouquet.

hold it
close your eyes and throw it back,
I know we shouldn’t be wearing white anyway
but tradition can take a lot out of you
like what you really think—
don’t say **** in public.

instead drag your first impressions
all the way to the altar
and dress in your Sunday best
a flower on your lapel
clear on your lips
a stroke for the neat decline
of the son

I tattooed a line across
the veins of my wrist
and marked a down stroke
for every time
my image
was my fault.

It is summer
And the wind presses the thin fabric to your body

Every woman’s *** looks perfect in a sundress

You have been sweating
And the fabric sticks to you in the next breeze

In stillness you are a Greek statue
With wet folds of fabric outlining your frame

There are wrinkles in some places
And I think that you might look like this when you are old

Bow down to that maroon sundress,
That claimed many hearts and fame,
Rift aside the mysterious gloom,
Sorry the waves that has gone insane.
Shower the dust of breathing colours,
Wreck my boat of hope,
Glimpse the labels of your cold skin,
Tie me up by your robust rope.
Cut me deep, right my wrong,
Show my endless efforts a parade,
On a fair night, take a leap,
Swim with me in summer lemonade.
So ring the church bells hard and low,
This man had done a sin,
Fire the guns and leave me stranded,
I am high on your love gin.

today i wore a sundress.
a yellow sundress.
with teal flats and black tights
and my favorite knit sweater.
i felt lovely and beautiful
every way i have wanted to feel.

I want to feel
beautiful again.
It's like I couldn't wash away
the **** and **** you said when you left.
Your words have been marinating my life,
trapped inside me like a bad song.
Following me everywhere like a bad tattoo.

But I'm done.

I'm ready for me now--the real me...
The me I couldn't be when I was half of you.

Let me finish my waffles and
I'll find something adventurous to wear.
No. **** it.
I'm getting up.
Let me look for something pre-you.
Orange skirt? Green blouse?
Wait. What is this yellow sundress?
Yes.

1.

“Chest up, shoulders back!

You are a regal beast—“

Light on your feet

A roar of fire

In the belly

Of my heart / the universe

For the perfect dance

Partner

A Goddess in gold

Sundress kaleidoscope

Lotus and her Lion

Where there’s love

There’s hope…

“Chest up, shoulders back!”

Twenty-three and skeptic. White teeth
and red lips.

*****-mouthed five foot seven countess.
Thoughts so lush, so green.

Intelligent but not unexciting.

Scarred right hand by climbing up but
wanting to know what falling feels like.

Unhinged.

Caught 4 out of 5 bouquets in weddings
she's attended. Claimed it should be an Olympic sport.

Breaks hearts like they are bones.

The love of my life.

I was a *****
When they told me that I “needed” to wear a bra in the third grade
like my eight-year-old body was too ****
And they would want things that they shouldn’t
Like it was my fault for being this way

I was a *****
The kind that got sent to the office for too short skirts and too much cleavage
Already guilty because I had hips and thighs and *****
And I was guilty of making them look of being big of taking up space
My body was an ugly indecent thing

I was a *****.
Not the ******* in the bathroom kind of *****.
Although, given the chance I might have been.
I was the kind of ***** that loved them seeing my body.
The kind of ***** that was great at ******* and better at stripping.

I was a *****.
I was the kind of ***** who faked ******* with the best of them.
Because watching them when they heard me, saw me, felt me coming.
Was unbelievable.
It was empowering.

I was a *****.
I did what they asked because it made me feel like I was worthwhile.
It made me feel like I was valuable.
It made me feel like the pits in my heart had finally been filled.
It made me feel like he didn’t leave me when I was eight months old.

I was a *****.
I pawned myself out like answers to the history test.
Because he smiled.
Because he was the kind of boy that made you want to say yes, yes, YES
And I did what I wanted.

I was a ***** because I couldn't say no,
Yell no
Scream no
Whisper no
When his hands twinned around my wrists like handcuffs keeping me there in the silence

I was a *****
Because even though his hands were touching me
I was too afraid to say so
Too afraid of it all falling apart
Too afraid of being the thing that broke it

I am a *****.
Because you don’t stop being one.
Just because you learn that *** is more than a strategic move.
Because you see the scars it’s leaving.
Because you finally start to hear your broken heart.

I am a proud *****.
I refuse to be ashamed.
My “number” is a badge of honor I wear right above my *****.
Because being a ***** takes refinement

I’m taking it back one word at a time.

*****.
*****.
******.
***.
*****.
****.
****.
Daddy Issues.

I am a *****.
But now I’m the kind of ***** that backs away when it starts to hurt.
When they get rough.
When they bite too hard.
When I can’t hold back the tears anymore.

I am the kind of *****, who stopped giving.
Giving *******,
Giving it up,
Giving little pieces of myself,
Giving a **** what you think

I am a *****,
My ****** is singing rally songs and yelling protest chants
It’s wearing a sticker that says “I voted”
It running around barefoot in a sundress with nothing holding it down
And it’s backing me up in every fight

So call me a *****,
Because I’m the kind of ***** who won’t stop fighting until **** is always, always, always a crime.
The kind of ***** who will never be afraid to say no again.
I’m the kind of ***** that’s going to tear down your patriarchy one ******* brick at a time.
And I won’t stop until I am ****** and aching on the ground where it once stood.

I tire
Of the perfect:
Of the flawless,
The azure,
The quiet,
The pastoral.
I tire of sunsets
And of flowers
I tire of perfect skin
And perfect lungs
I tire of politeness
And I tire of patience.

I am bored
by golden sunrays,
Reflected brightly
from golden hair
Trailing behind a sundress
Weaving, careless,
through golden wheat.
I no longer want to be her.

I tire of fluffy pillows
And warm blankets.
I am bored of hot tea
And of books about things
That are not real,
Only beautiful figments of the mind,
Only as real as the pages, the cover,
Only as real as we can pretend them to be -
And I am bored of pretending.

I am bored with cities
And with mountains
And with fields
And rivers
And the ocean.
I grow impatient with the trees
And the clouds
And the birds.


I am bored by the beautiful.
Because beautiful is beautiful, so,
But it is only beautiful.
And Beauty, though held fast,
Esteemed above all other qualities
Sought tirelessly
Worshipped and envied
Revered, praised
Beauty is only beauty.
It is not deserved.
It is not earned.
It cannot speak, it cannot give
It cannot love.
Beauty is nothing.
Beauty is boring.
I am bored by beauty.
I do not seek what is beautiful.
I will never be beautiful.
But that is a very small thing
To never be.
I can be far, far more
Than beautiful.

I can be real.
You are real.
And I am real.
And us, we
We are real.
What we are
What we have
Is real.
I am not yet tired
Of you.

And I will never be tired
of us.

What is so important to address
something to react to the illumine
fruity to their balance sips like
a goldmine
He sways passed you and trips
Rose Poumedeur right near your* lips

Both stumbling and boasting over her
imported wine dress

The swinging parasol his cork topped
delights
Those imported by his number nights
Cabernet Sauvignon
Hooked to there eyes
Million stars to lift
Her petite waistline
Like heartline of Valentine
wine felt dresses

Outnumbered you by four words
The strenuous tiresome love-wine
Be mine the stargaze* dazing inside the sunsets
So bottled inside her mission
His love how it aged in her
in  a good retrospect like
Deep cherry confessions

The import from a trade surplus
She got overlooked got flown in place
like a sticker
The smart star- reservation 
 high-demand book
To seek her

What a chemistry  love- hands creation
She's the many vintage dresses A plus
The pouring of wine of many fusions
The cloudy dress is a minus illusion

She learned her entire lesson
How many times she was moved
around like musical  I tunes of wine
CD collection of Rennaisance
Battling like the fort chair
But someone was moved by her Jazz
type of hair
My lesson my wish was on hold
the mission cruise of the impossible dress
Getting weaved inside someone's
powerful suite but the best suite
and stay
The Fort William Henry until this day
The Fort William Henry Hotel like no
other sorts and what sports

Japan imports 77.8 billion exports
more than imports
Lackadaisical called the
breath of sunshine
The daisy sundress sitting on the
veranda with Fort Williams and the
Henry the eight I am children

I've been sunbathing looking at the boat
The Minne Haha thinking of MaMa
Someone was singing like Lady GAGA

The matter of great expression of words
Hummingbirds at Lake George
Picking the best birth of seeds
Imported wine what our heart needs
Rising demands of the meat
like the paradise of lovebirds
Her dress was to heal the world
Those wildflowers were the
sort of thing silence is the  best thing
Somehow not the hype of the bling
or diamond ring
Sometimes the Goddess
sun shines more

Making her feel loved to sing
Her dress had the gimmick to move
What a rural fun tree orange grove
Like the referee wine shopping spree
Everyday people were moved by her
gift of imported wines
Her gravity of smiles he's mine
Her face steams like the highest
light beam very well bred and fine
The long winding trail her
corset gown
Started to make head waves to the
higher forces
So enlightening the lakes
such cascades
Those wine deep waves romantic
To prelude to a kiss the Cosmic
The Islander-border lace her face
To love and honor her more

Not necessarily less that
divine moment
We should never miss
Lake George rippling waves
On her outskirts

Princess Kelly cheese Italian wine
Naples deserts
The evergreen  long dress
Shined your Highness the
Roman pillars
How he grabbed her waist dancing
like the Gatsby
Gave her such splendor everlasting sip
But the imported wine was deeper

To Set up the date
To Make- the wine up
In the cellar aged hours to perfect
What a stir over her dress-up deep ruby
wine start to pour end
of a new beginning
subject
To book the trip Lake George New York
All you had to do

Go to the Fort William Henry
Hotel like a home with family
So many friendly faces with smiles
All you have to do is show up

That summer was hotter than any of the others before. The county was dryer than it had ever been, and the kids more restless than years past. I was sitting on the front porch at my granddaddy’s, swinging slowly with the breeze that offered no relief from that God awful heat. I was in a little black sundress, which was hard to find because most people prefer pink or yellow or orange  - anything but black during the summer. But you can’t wear pink or yellow or orange to a funeral. So there I sat, in my black sundress, black sun hat and black heels. I even had black sunglasses, but I opted for those on my own. I had no desire for every eye in Harlan to see me cry. The sunlight hurt my eyes anyway; I had one hell of a hangover. The night before was the first time I’d drunk anything but sweet tea or water in my life. My body did not take kindly to it. I was doing a lot of things my body did not take kindly to as of late, drinking being only one of the many vices I’d begun to partake in. “Come on girl, we best get a goin’. Ain’t gonna do to be late for this one.” Granddaddy offered me a hand and helped me up. The car ride there was silent, but I would catch him every once in a while glancing over at me to make sure I was “Keepin’ my **** together.” He knew about the drinking and had my hide for it.  It was far too soon that I had to step out of the car and walk to the front row where your family sat. The rest of the day went by in a blur. Your momma hugging me. Your daddy shaking my hand. Your sisters clinging to the skirt of my dress. I don’t know when I started crying, just that the tears seemed like they had been there since the day I was born. The songs we sang were all wrong and the sky was too blue and the birds sang too loud. The wind blew too much and not enough, because if it had been enough it would have carried me far, far away from that place, but too much because it’s sigh sounded far, far too much like yours. I kept it together until that first handful of dirt hit the lid of that ****** box that was going to hold you for the rest of eternity. I remember being jealous because I wanted to be the one holding you, not that hole in the ground. When it was my turn to throw it in, I fell. I fell as hard as when I fell in love with you, except you weren’t there to catch me this time, you were too busy in entering into the arms of our Good Lord. So I kissed the dirt I held in my hand (when it finally stopped shaking) and threw it in, then I tried to throw myself in. But granddaddy caught me before I could get to you and they covered you up before I could claw my way in. It hasn’t been the same since you left; the air doesn’t smell near as sweet and the sun doesn’t burn near as bright. I haven’t had the heart to wash the mud off that dress yet and I’ve had too much heart to throw it away. You left me to live in a world full of contradictions, Darlin’. Left me to live a life that knocks me to the ground and waits for me to get back up, just so it can kick me in the teeth.

And, I suppose, in your absence, I wouldn’t have it any other way.

I'm just an old hippie
Somehow his spirit has gotten inside me
I'm for peace and love and music
And I like to see my girl in a sundress with a flower in her hair
I'm just an old hippie; I like living free

Some people don't get me
They don't like my long hair
They think I'm just about *** and drugs
And that I don't have a care
I'm an old hippie but your judgment is unfair

I challenge you to read the bible and the teachings of the Lord
Did he teach peace; I believe so
Did he teach about love, understanding and being there for others; do I need to say more
I don't like war; peace and love and music is what I live for
I'm just an old hippie; I like living free

sometimes
a beautiful girl
is only beautiful
until she opens her **** mouth,
stupidity is this generation's plague

Holden Caulfield
2. That movie that I saw last weekend that I thought you would like
3. The mix tapes you made me. I still listen to them in my car
4. The way I dance and wondering if you would like it if you saw me.
5. The Kooks and how you hate them.
6. Hospice
7. Late nights sleeping alone and knowing you're awake, but oh so silent.
8. Wondering if you're thinking about me too
9. The poems you wrote me. Your handwriting is classy.
10. The picture of Hilary Duff on my desk reminding me to be good
11. My bed and how you used to be there.
12. My friends and how you used to be one of them
13. Uptown
14. My ticklish spots that no longer get touched
15. My cat... he misses you.
16. Speaking Spanish and how you used to correct it, and sometimes be impressed
17. Wearing bows in my hair. How you used to love them.
18. The clothes I bought at that thrift store yesterday. I wonder if you'd like them.
19. Mehermahermahermaherm
20. Listening to Bright Eyes.
21. Listening to the sound of loneliness.
22. Coffee and how you say "Americano" with a roll of the tongue.
23. The last bit in my tea and how it's "too sweet to swallow."
24. Sitting close on the couch. Your hand stroking mine. Sneaking a kiss on the cheek.
25. Missing busses and missing you.
26. How I used to cheer you up.
27. The stars and sheep and roses.
28. Seth Rogan
29. Meditating and how I can't do it with you constantly clogging up my brain.
30. Laughing
31. I never learned to salsa dance with you and your brutally honest hips.
32. Carrot Creme Brulee
33. Hand dance duets
34. The empty spaces between my fingers
35. Your grey corduroy pants are my favorite.
36. When you called me your coriño.
37. How you would have scoffed at me copying and pasting an "ñ".
38. Attempting to show you music you would like.
39. Failing at showing you music you like.
40. Sending you hearts.
41. Arching my back.
42. Eating ice cream and how I'm better when it's here.
43. How I'm better when you're here.
44. How Cory is better when Topanga is there.
45. Italian Night Clubs
46. You and Me and Everyone We Know
47. Tyronne Street
48. Ice Land
49. Getting lost.
50. Drunken parties and thrashing fists.
51. Second chances
52. Being half of something.
53. Wearing your cardigan
54. Long embraces and never wanting to move.
55. Doing my homework with you sitting next to me. Not letting you read over my shoulder
56. Teaching you about the body.
57. Your smile, and how you give a little chuckle every time I see it.
58. How we used to laugh about nothing.
59. Really bad cookies.
60. Butter face.
61. Jealousy
62. Hating modernized Shakespeare
63. Confessions
64. Embarrassed faces buried in pillows
65. Incredulous about me hating Elvis
66. Miles ******* Davis
67. Singing softly to the radio
68. Playing the piano. Singing for you when you're not around.
69. Wondering if you're reading this right now.
70. Hoping that you've gotten this far down the list.
71. Be the Pitta to my Vata
72. Kate Upton has saggy *****.
73. I just want to make spaghetti with you.
74. How you hate ellipsis
75. Wondering whether or not I spelled that correctly because I know you would judge.
77. Leaving tearful voice-mails
78. John Lennon and Yoko Ono's Rolling Stone cover
79. Looking at art, wishing I was Monet.
80. My sundress on the floor.
81. Not seeing that new movie in theaters (the one that won all those Oscars) because I only want to see it with you.
82. Getting angry when Kacie B. didn't get the rose on the Bachelor and knowing you're angry too because Courtney ***** as a person.
83. I'm an ugly crier.
84. Hitting bread pans
85. Your green plaid jacket
86. Vulgarity
87. Insecurity
88. "Back and forth. Forever."
89. How that one song reminds you of me and I still don't know why.
90. How you deserve the best
91. It makes me sad that I'm at number 91 and you're still nowhere to be found.
92. Going to ballet class with the anticipation of seeing you afterward.
93. You asking me how ballet was, whether you were interested or not.
94. whispers "Let me be your hero."
95. Never seeing your fur vest.
96. Holding hands when we shouldn't have.
97. Velvet leggings
98. The last wonder of the world.
99. I fear that I will forget what your face looks like.
100. Reaching one-hundred with so much more to say.

The cocktail dress split hope down the screen
Letting that reoccurring dream compel me
Into memories of you
The clink of my cup
Shattered sobriety with the pain of daybreak
The ice looks like crystal but only something that will disappear and overflow your glass is standing at attention
The bar stool cracked, empty and the faux leather ripped, and torn
Cougars and MILFs strut down the bar top
Scanning tonight’s bachelors
I sit behind, for my dress is long and flannel
Heavy, hot making me sweat and stink
I run faster than a cheetah in my mind
Tearing doors and bridges apart
Speeding towards the sunrise
Attempting for the *** of gold
The cocktail drips from the table on to the floor
A puddle I will eventually slip from
Hair in my face
My ankle sundress reaped with alcohol
I stand up, look around
Towel?
But all I see is you
Walking back slowly retreating to the door
Leaving me to deal and regret the decisions
I so poorly execute

kitten
it’s time for bed
go brush your teeth
daddy will turn down your bed

come here
daddy will undress you
hop on the bed
let me take off your shoes
and slide off your socks
look at those pretty toes

stand up
put your hands up to the sky
there you go
let’s take off that sundress

oh how cute
your ******* have a little bow
i’ll slide them down
now step out
there you go
goodness kitten
you’re so petty
with no clothes

give daddy a kiss
mmm, kitten, you’re so sweet
now into bed you go
daddy will cuddle
and read you a story
and stay by your side
till you fall asleep

Now I understand
The sand crawling through our toes
with this land of grain and wonder
and the endless aquatic temple thats
too deep to enter
The smoke blurs my vision
It dresses my eyes with your beauty
Land of craziness
Land of wind and sails
The Palm trees waving around
The Palms of our hands never letting go
I’m not in love with you
I’m in love with the feeling
I’m in love with the atmosphere
The way you dress my eyes
We just met, but my mind stomps around with ideas
Ideas of beaches, love, hands,
everything that shows happiness and fondness
Driving down beverly hills with the sun setting
in the background of an awe inspiring painting
Lips, skin, life, death,
2 weeks of happiness
before I go
The sun can set as long as we can stay here
The sun can go anywhere it wants, I will find you again
So the sun can finally, get up from its hibernation
and be back in the sky.

Walking on the sidewalk
Down long, winding roads
Carving through the city while my mind explodes
I see a little girl wearing a velvet shirt with Marilyn Monroe
It made me think of you as I found a new place to go

Staring down the windows
Looking for a friendly face
Pushing through the avenues with nothing left to replace
I see a starlight sky and a million shining eyes
And I remember the time we watched them go by

Leaning on the windowsill
Listening to Midnight sing
Only the lonely seem to remember everything
I hear a country song coming from an open bedroom door
It was the words you sang when you couldn't take the silence no more

Here comes the morning
With the sweet summer sun
Barreling down the alleyways and shining down on everyone
I see a gypsy woman wearing a sundress painted red
As she twirled her hair I couldn't get you out of my head

my DNA is a self-made daisy chain
strung together with the best of intentions
and a few yards of dental floss

it's always getting tangled up in moon beams
and boot strings
     tugging me in one thousand directions at once
like the sea pulling at the limitless shorelines hem

i am magic

my flesh reflects the hue of the desert dust the winds bathe me in
speckled with freckles that occasionally line up with the stars

what a fool i'd be to paint myself into obscurity
with make-up brushes and lipstick hues

          no

i choose me

excessively sensitive to the energy of all other living beings
always feeling everything
all the pain and happiness
love and fear and angst
     at once
          lumped in with the leaves of my tea
destined to forever reside within
     me

the high-priestess of the immeasurable things
the guardian of treasures unseen
     constantly filling my sundress with ***** pebbles
     broken feathers
          and all the stardust i can find

i've spent the last one thousand life times
being everywhere at the EXACT same time 

you should know
     you were there

     and oh
such love i've found
hiding in the shallows
in the mud
     and under the edges of your finger nails

even in the darkness of the vast
and ever-stretching sky
there is so much light
so very many precious gems
hoisted into timeless settings along the milkyway's head-dress

          i promise
where i am right now
is the best place to be

and if you don't believe me
     crane your neck towards the stars

Came in late to work this morning,
Me and the boss got in a fight,
Now I'm sittin' in a jail cell,
Cause I got a better right!

If I only had a pick-up truck,
A little girl in a nice sundress,
If I only had an old dog,
A family farm  that was a mess,

Then I guess I'd be a cowboy,
And I'd always have me a job,
And I guess I'd be happy too,
...instead of eating prison slop!

I spent that last night drunk again,
Hung-over after fightin' with the wife,
Came in late to work that mornin',
Me and the boss got in a fight,
Now I'm sittin' in a jail cell,
Cause I got a better right!

I can remember all the country tunes,
Young love out dancing with the wife,
How her face shined in-the-moon,
Left a simple cowboy-n'-country life!

If I only had a pick-up truck,
My best girl in her little sundress,
If I only had my old dog,
My family farm that was a mess,

Then I guess I'd be a cowboy,
And I'd always have me a job,
And I guess I'd be happy too,
...instead of eating prison slop!

Came in late to work that mornin',
Me and the boss got in a fight,
Now I'm sittin' in a jail cell,
Cause I got a better right!

If I'd stayed on that family farm,
If I still had my old dog,
Then I guess I'd be a cowboy,
Maybe the wife would still be gone?
Then I guess I'd be happy too,
...instead of singing this sad song.

Then I guess I'd be a cowboy,
And I'd always have me a job,
And I guess I'd be happy too,
...instead of eating prison slop!

Came in late to work that mornin',
Me and the boss got in a fight,
Serving my time in a jail cell,
Cause I got a better right!
Yeah I guess I'd be a cowboy,
Cause I will never find a job,
And I bet I'll be happy too,
...no more eating prison slop!*

Yeah, I guess I'll be a cowboy,
Yeah, I'll always have a job,
Yeah, you know I'll be happy too,
...pick-up truck and an old dog.

Perfection's never something,
You can capture oh so well.
But her beauty burned like gazing,
At the fires that burn in Hell.

And people they would beg of her,
"Let me capture you in photograph."
But with beauty that was so obscure,
She'd always turn and laugh.

She woke up every morning,
But this was a different one.
Called an artist that was yearning,
"We can do this just for fun."

She stained her lips with rose.
Painted her cheeks in the fairest rouge.
Slipped ballet flats upon her toes.
And in her sundress she found refuge.

The amateur had no say,
She had planned the perfect spot.
She whispered, "I'll lead the way."
A small price to pay to get the perfect shot.

Her movements were so delicate,
It's as if they were devised.
She used a subtle hand wave to indicate,
That they had finally arrived.

You would think you'd see a castle,
Or maybe a field of green.
But this enviroment was quite the hassle,
Maybe her sense of taste wasn't keen.

She thrusted weeds away,
Steering clear of twigs and rocks.
The warm wind made her sundress sway,
And softly tousled her gold locks.

Upon a bridge she advanced,
The planks began to creak.
The water below her danced,
And sunset began to peak.

She lifted her legs with elegance,
And supported herself with a beam.
The photographer shuttered in benevolence,
But followed along with this dangerous scheme.

It's as if the camera was under a spell;
As beneath the bridge, waves violentally lashed.
She threw her arms out and willingly fell,
As the light grew bright and flashed.

The tides pulled tight around her.
They made her twirl and spin.
And the camera man swore,
she smiled as they tugged her in.

Perfection's not that fluent.
Not something you can capture oh so well.
But now we have a picture here to prove it,
As the waves dragged her to Hell.

Brothers!
And some sisters too...
It’s time!
It’s time to step forward
And proclaim to the people
We love ***
We adore ***
Don’t be offended
It’s just a compliment...


I’m an *** man
That’s who I am
***** shorts are like Spidey Senses
Yoga Pants are letting people know what you haved
Sundress Season makes me incoherent
I don’t give a ****
So many, so little time
If you got a big one, you're considered a dime
I’m not a rapper
But I can rhyme
Some call me perverted
I call me observant
Is that a big crime?
When I stand behind her
And she grinds on me at the time
Don’t trip
Y’all do it too
Some chicks act like it’s a big taboo
It’s really not
It's because you’re hot
Whoops
I forgot, they get told that nonstop
But that *** though
Make it bounce
I want to tap it
So juicy
So bubbly
So yummy
On top of that, literally she’s a beauty.
Put your hands up like Billy Gunn
If you’re like me
It’s time
To step forward and say
I am an *** man

now I'm a shipwreck in a sundress,
an aimless, shameless coquette –
a first kiss, a second guess,
a weak and wobbly pirouette.

3am in the morning and I'm strolling
you walk by looking like the choosen
eye contact and the chemistry explodin
body language speaking loudly, smiling as I close in
sundress, hair tied, matching purse looking wooven
pretty lips, beautiful satin eyes that matching your clothin
slim waist, thick thighs
hypnotized by your vibes
love at first sight
from first sight of your eyes
ask you where you from
as I walk you home
the more we talk, the more we vibe
before you know it, I'm sitting on your sofa
our hands are all over, lips are getting closer
mouths open wipe, bodies begging for closure
instinct taking over, bodies getting closer
climaxes reaching closure
laying side to side
and then its
over

What have I done?
I've unleashed Quincy Valero into The Big Bad City, upon Greenwich Village for the first time
The 177 express, round trip
To Port Authority
To the A train to Canal

We missed our stop
Had to walk from Soho to Washington Square Park
But along the way we saw artists and galleries
Head shops and street performers
Hobos and junkies

"We made it"
"We in this *****!"
Quincy said as we walked through the arches

We saw a multitude of creatures
An artist drawing floral murals with chalk
Meditating Buddhists
A cello player playing for a meal
A drummer drumming for money to get back home
A jazz band
A clarinet player
Writers scribbling down whatever came to mind

We saw beautiful women everywhere
"Look, my ten, your two"
Quincy said nodding to a **** brunette wearing a sundress walking by

We got coffee at The Third Rail coffee shop
We met lovey dovey couples and a girl poet sipping espresso

Treading down Bleaker to Sullivan to Macdougal to Huston
*** shops, leather and studs, ****** and flavored lubes
"This **** reminds me of Saw"
Quincy said with a laugh
"Too much for your threshold aye?"
I said nudging him

We passed a guy selling vinyl on the street
"How much for the Charlie Parker record?" I asked
He took the record out and inspected it
"Five bucks" he said
"How long you gonna be here, like till what time?" I asked
"Oh I don't live by time or numbers" he answered
"Time ain't your mast huh?" I laughed
"Nope, you cant spell T-I-M-E without M-E" he said
Quincy and I looked at eachother with a grin
"I'll be back, if I'm not here before you leave good luck in your ventures" I said as we walked away
"Thanks brother enjoy the day" he said smiling and waving

We ate to Papaya Hot dogs
Best in the city
Then to the pool hall

Now folks, it is common knowledge where I'm from the Quincy Valero is the local pool shark
He can break and sink three *****
He can jump over your ball and get his in
He can shoot behind his back with one hand

Playing with him is a guaranteed loss
But I never cared, I just like playing
We talked and laughed about all the stupid nonsense back at home
And planned our next move

We went to The Blue Note, the best jazz club in the city
The Dizzy Gillespie All Star Band was playing that night
But it was too expensive for both of us so we went on to St. Mark's place

More head shops
More *** shops
And book stores, clothing stores
Punk things in Search and Destroy, record stores
All that good stuff

It was getting late
Back to Bleaker to start drinking
First stop, a little pub
The bartender was a gorgeous blonde, sweet as could be
We ordered two beers
She seemed to be having trouble with the tap
"Sorry guys it's a little foamy, next rounds on me"
We were amazed by that because back home all the bartenders couldn't care less if we got a whole mug of foam
We clinked glasses and took that first cool icy sip
So nice on such a hot day

"Ya know dude, this is it this is perfect" Quincy said
"What you mean?" I asked
"Well this is a great time, I'm on vacation right now and were here exploring and relaxing and enjoying the moment, this moment" he said with his beer hovering over his mouth

Quincy always talked about "This"
This moment
This time
This feeling
This thing

"This" is that time when you're in the moment
That moment of complete and total encumbrance
When you're wrapped up in what you'r doing because you love it and you're happy
The moment you live for
The moment you want to last forever
This moment
This right here
Not then, not before or after
But right now, this
We lived our lives trying to to make this happen every second of everyday
Living it up

Quincy took me to Artichoke Pizza
And my God, it was immaculate
A nine in wide, nine inch long and half inch thick slice of heaven
It was a mixture of crunchy, gooey, savory goodness
I highly recommend it

Then back to the bars
Wicked *****'s
Triona's
Off The Wagon
The Bitter End
GMT
The Red Lion
Cafe Wha?
1849

Beer
Wine
***
Whiskey
Scotch on the rocks
Bourbon

Smoking electronic cigarettes down cobble stone roads
Passing hipsters, college students and tweakers
Locals and tourists
"Out of my way you tourist *******" I yelled frantically pushing my way passed them with Quincy trudging behind

You can always spot a tourist because they got their cameras, their ***** packs and their head looking up saying "ooo look at the building and that one!" taking snap shots in awe

We walked to The V-club
As we walked up to the entrance a little old lady in a wheel chair called out to us, "Are you two brothers?"
We laughed and said "no, were best friends and next door neighbors"
"Oh, well you too look very similar, very young" she said
"Yeah we're both twenty one" Quincy said
"You live around here?" I asked
"Right over there" she said pointing to the building across the street
She told us about how the building was falling apart and how all the law students got booted out leaving the little old lady and one other person living in the nine floor heap
"Back in the day there were river rats in their the sized of cats, but now we only have mice" she said
"I'm being moved though, whenever the land lords and the officials decided where" she added
She had some sort old senior citizen perk that allowed her to be taken care of
She then started to spit some of her poetry from thirty years ago, perfectly from memory
It was full of truth, insight and hope
We were floored by this wheelchair bound geriatric
She was a a retired barmaid, a poet, and an ex-lounge singer
Her name was Tracy Warren

The three of us walked into the V-club
I ordered a glass of Pinot Noir
And Quincy got a draft Brooklyn Lager
While pulling out a stool a spilled my wine all over the wooden table
"****" I said as everyone in the bar watched me put my face in my palms
I got paper towels and cleaned up my mess while the bartender leaned over to Quincy and said "If you don't tip me that will be your last drink ever in here"
"Okay" Quincy said as he walked over to me laughing at my expense
"If it was Burgundy I'd be in tears" I said with a half serious frown

I went to the bartender and apologized and asked sheepishly if I could possibly get a refill

"You spilled your wine?" he asked with sarcasm
"Yeah" I said
"And you want me to give you another?" he asked
"Well, I mean I don't know if that's okay or not that's why I'm asking" I said
"We don't, it isn't okay, you have to buy another one" he said with the most insulting tone I've ever heard
"Okay" I said with disdain

"**** this guy" Quincy and I both said
I left the remaining wine dripping off the table
Quincy ****** all over the bathroom
He finished his beer and we left without tipping that bearded-high and mighty- *******
We said goodbye to Tracy and she told us to enjoy every moment and to get home safely

We went to one more bar, had one more drink and headed home
But on the way to the train we got stopped by a ***
"Hey you give me money I know you got it" he yelled at Quincy
"Na man, hes broke trust me" I said to end the oncoming confrontation
"No yous lying i know it" he said
"Na, see those shoes? I got him those shoes, fifty five bucks" I told him
"Stop putting me on" he yelled
Then some white knight hipster wearing thick rimmed glasses and a green flannel stepped in and said "What's going on here? You picking on my friend?" While putting his arm around the *** mocking him and making trouble for us
"This ******* won't give me any money for my troubles" he told the hipster
"Come on man, give 'em something" he said to Quincy
"Dude, he has no money he spent all he had today" I said to the hipster and the ***
"He's a trust fund kid, he gets it from mommy and daddy" I said winking to Quincy
"Trust fund kid?!" the hipster said
"Trust fund kid!" said the ***
"TRUST FUND KID, TRUST FUND KID" screamed the hipster, the *** and myself laughing at Quincy making a scene
Then me and Quincy just walked away throwing our heads back howling at the full moon, drunk and exhausted heading for the subway  

The subway to Port Authority
Our legs, our feet and our ***** were killing us
We just wanted to sit

We could not for the life of us find our gate
We got misdirections from officers, other public transportation patrons
Thank God for this one janitor for pointing us in the right direction out of our wild goose chase
And ***** the guy who I asked "Hey man do you know where I can find the gate for the 177 express?"
And all I got was a blank indifferent stare
"WELL **** ME RIGHT?!" I yelled in his face

Finally we got on the line for our bus
We saw some weaselly looking guy cutting the line until he got booted to the back of the line
As he passed us we both looked at his and said "Weet, get meerkatted scumbag"
He had to wait for the next bus, whenever that was

The bus ride home felt like an eternity
But we made it
We had to walk down the unpaved dirt road to our street

We did it
We took on The Village
Sailed through the bars
Walked the streets
Met cool, hip people
Made memories
And now we have stories to tell