Patriots and faux exhibit and binge on synonyms of liberty printed on beer and underwear Advertising what should be unspoken and inspired to pervert and romanticize Preludes to the parades and finale above us all Weeks of saturated irony Cuckoo bird irony and BBQ As they reform Phoenix, rebirth of distractions and thievery Predators in ally ways pursing America's diamonds and legs
Then gunpowder Gunpowder of colors and cuckoos Layers of streets in gunpowder Towns built of gunpowder Sky is gunpowder We are born addicted to led and gunpowder Gunpowder ****** in the air Success, display and diversion and more gunpowder to ingest.
The Grand Finale The Volta of the evening The hammer of the judge *** appeal of death and nature flexing it's muscles- show us some skin!
Covering your ears Eyes fastened- Ready to burrow back to mothers **** Binged and free Chinese celebration hijacked Red, White and Blue And a moment of silence
Orchestrated onomatopoeia in heaven Chorus of arousal on Earth Band marching war machines in ****
The showdown of 241 years! This freedom we are all grateful to only talk about
Only free to battle shackling intoxication Men and women tugging extra weighted offspring Sulking for indoors and portable addiction Chanting three letter obedience *** being counted by his blessings Fear and Statism in every breathe for salvation from our stick swatted enemies Checkpoints that serve and protect asking for a toll; liberty synonyms. Arresting the too free
At the Zoo,
The cuckoos regaining reality. The phoenix red eye and held under oath To the next day where we are back To hate each others freedom, again.
silk blouses and cotton underwear the nights merge into a sticky soup that falls into the pocket of a sweater i was wearing when they said that death is permanent the voice echoing into the receiver of my first cell phone the wavering tremble of someone in the middle of realms sleep and consciousness turning the other side of the pillow wondering if the smoke in my lungs felt comfortable wonder if the moon sinks lower into your backyard i was never good at distinguishing shadows and when i found myself on the dark side of the mattress; my feet cold and feeble i wondered if you could hear my heart a thousand miles away the fluttering of a drowsy bird, lethargically dragging it's clumsy wings into the plummeting stifle of open air you said my lips were like the halves of a plum i bit them until they bled but it was never as sweet it was never as sweet
Women of the ROK [South Korea] unite to protest the rash of digital camera up-skirting, hidden toilet cams & dressing room holes by an avant-garde subculture whose sole aim is to redefine beauty from the bottom up; tearing down the old order of mere very pretty faces for the surprise the unseen; online ******* poets who wax romantically; over South Korean women who wear the shortest skirts of any westernized Asian country; therefore, where the average woman is expected to be above average, what could be better than a possible *** or period stain; [ ], Rupi Koar laid the foundation [her soiled garments stinking of Canadian Desi BO; dreaming wistfully of the blossoming cherry-trees in the hidden grove, streams of crystalline blood threading through the golden grass; (dead as if she was [Sleeping Beauty (on the toilet)]) & w/ healthy [or unhealthy] doses of Baudelaire, Swinburne, Poe, Sade & Wilde; this new school of poets celebrating female underwear & bottoms & beyond; what could future generations make of various Internet pseudo-intellectual movements all coalescing into a monolithic computer culture driven by the embarrassment & shame of its female members & their ***** backsides & underwear; essentially odes on her laundry basket, odes on her farts, odes on her leavings, odes on her mother's droppings & leavings, & her grandmothers' mothers leavings; South Korean women are the original race, their intestine driven by pure **** [a South Korean woman's soul is in her belly]
I’ve been getting nervous that you won’t call cause I don’t wanna lose you See I don’t often let myself lay comfortably in someone else’s arms or let someone rest their hand on my hip while I sleep I lose my breath remembering that feeling of you feeling me
The simple intimacy of laying in bed in our underwear looking at each other after the sun rises, Talking bout cards our parents gave us our laughter filling the room with warmth Lately it’s been so cold
I don’t want to let this all go I rest my head on your shoulder just to be closer to you Don’t let me go
Innocently intertwining as we sleep I hear you snore and you pull me in Your body familiar, my body resurrected Let’s lay here still while the world spins Like we’ve done this all before