tea leave etchings

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I wonder what net I can knit to capture you And what tints I can sift to loose this nasty hue

Monday, January 30, 2006

sullied thoughts for disposure

Charles Whitimore’s gilded cock
36 rusted musket locks
beaded eyes in v-shaped flocks
head in south for the squid kill docks

sippin’ straw round the curve of the wrist
torso born phallic tubular cists
cataractic clasps to subdue the list
viscous sewer side one way kiss

a ball of the foot laceration mood
palm slide up the tentacle fluid
dusky chink peering distance crude
submerge to drown kill all the genital food

eye fuck
closest thing to anything at all
ear cup
a response to the deciduous call

a lackluster filibuster glint
Milk Tint

Thursday, January 19, 2006










cause he眠らず


Tuesday, January 17, 2006

spits in spirits while drinking spirits

Pink sleet beats on
my from tongue wrung umbrella
on pink streets me feets strum
a hum hung with a ped o' drum

the formed storm isn't ush’al conform
the drops i kicks up do licks
the fella in the umbrella cellar
when facing the pallet based precipitation

it's raining tongues, slugs shot from guns
like facial crumbs, mastication victims
it's a drizzle of dribble, salivary spittle
a puddle to muddle with a disgruntled word stubble

Pink sleet at my feet brings soft flesh street heat
i conceit with the umbrellas defeat and proceed
to be tasted, basted in wasted in slips of the tongue
slippin the thumb past the gums to make sure i still have one

with the salvias cumulus above to humble us
and tumble us in continuous taste buds thus
my flavor's savored with precipitating favor
in unsheltered seats i peek the pink sleet

Pink sleet indeed, spit beads and seeds that proceed
under the tongues urges, emerges, and surge as reeds
reeds to read the palatable brain feed
they grow in thick tufts and bludgeoned by pink stuffs

flesh colored anvils that tumble and ramble a preamble of psychobabble
their evictions of dictions have wet the roads, are smitten
with low leafed leaflets grown by beefed teethless
mouth contents, content with fervent mispronouncements

the pink sleet puddles in the streets in piles of beat meat
to eat the thin sheets of gravel based taste
Praise the twelve sons, i believe it is raining tongues

suggestions about the future from someone who needs suggestions about the future

Glance at the moon
See it from the corner of your eye
Just take a glimpse
In the pause of a blink

See it’s a circle
See only that it’s a circle
Don’t take it all in
Just take it all in a glance

Twist in the moon drenched
My how your chords do struggle
But let the tide take you to shore
Take you to shore

And sure you’re not sure
What the shore could be
But darling the thing is
There’s never a sure shore

Don’t look for the moonlight
Catch its reflections out a mirror
Catch its shadow on a rug
Touch its silken silhouette

Don’t look at the moon
Let an eyelash bisect it as
You pan the panorama
Darling, there is no lighthouse

Darling let the snowdrift lift you
Let some breeze ease you in
Let the puddles cradle your feet
Darling let the moon swoon you

Glance at the moon
See it from the corner of your eye
Don’t take it all in
Just take it all in a glance

Monday, December 12, 2005

it's harbored

I see her in him
His strand daisy bowler corkscrews into her fine chords
His marbled eyes grow moss as from erstwhile they trod
I see her in him

I see her in him
From some vantage he grasped my interest as if to be beacon
From other vantages he fractures into light cracks and molds her silhouette
I see her in him

I do not want to touch him, but touch him to in turn touch her
I do not want to be with him, but am with him to in turn be with her
I do not want to kiss him, but kiss him to in turn kiss her
I do not want to love him, but I love her

I see her in him
Like one might see the taiga in a stack of novels
Like one might see contemplations in an eyeball
I see her in him

I see her in him
To the point where my innards kink twice round his words
To the point where I faint up the sea's surface
It's that I see her in him

It's that I see her in him that it quells me so

Can't I set her free
Can't I let these tendrils slip through his ribs
Can't I touch her face

Can't I set her free
Can't I clutch his pelvis firm in my tresses
Can't I pretend it's her

Can't I be set free
These wicked tentacles that envelop my lungs
These wicked words that envelope my tongue
Shan't I be set free

Can't I let these tendrils slip through his ribs
Slide down his navel
Past his lungs
Can't I snap, don't I have a right to snap

I see her in him
In all his slops she descends past the sea level
In all his clouds she is the heavy fog of the sea
I see her in him

She'll never be let free
I'll never be let free
These vile coils will strangle me alone
I won't let myself free

For him

For her

Sunday, December 04, 2005

It's sometimes confusing what is to be done next

It's theorized
that the respective platforms we fall back on,
that card where our eyes won't meet, where our tongues won't lap
is in fact the same
the same twilighted footsteps we tread
the same cavern our eyes descend to
in mute we are but ridge to ridge

And yet
that landscape we return to,
the mountain ranged where our ears twitch to,
where our teeth tap of, is in fact
wedged by atmospheres
oppisite sides of the everything

why can't i speak to You on that landing
why can't we speak together of that landing
why do You drop like a cliff from the death
why does my hand, when You fall, stay
i push Your breath out of my lungs

And furthermore
you, your scent it gives me craziness
and you, your manner it gives me craziness
and you, you remind me so much of her I want to vomit
and she reminds me so much of loss
And furthermore, You...

Friday, December 02, 2005

the pupil doth emit a gravitation that tugs the clock strings

don't you wanna take two watches
in your hand and
see how far the gears can
hurl your knuckles
perhaps each succinct tick could
topple nine years
or more in the heart beat that
twitches the blink
than the heightened breeze of a gasp that follows a wink

don't you wanna count the roman face
that fences the circumference
and circumcalculates, a thin line ungulates,
each footstep down
the hall strikes the walls thrice fold
and the diameter drips from the face
in a classic puddle
upon the bootstraps of a fine lad with a staff

don't you wanna hand shake the wristwatch
like a colander calendar
drain out ninety minutes and relish it
on fine china and sliver
and seep the seconds to make the divinest liquor
and restore the adore
that you've lost in the day
to graze the haze is to stew
two fine sheets in your hand
and at the simplest demand misunderstand
the action, the sheets are just your bootstraps
you pull up during hard times

and the wristwatch is just
a bottle cap refracted off pressured preserves

and the shoddy face is just
the reflected radiate of sixty-eight orbs on a radius

and the watch is just
in between your fingers like dust between the
pages in cages on
my shelf my darling my shelf is
but a landing
and the clock, my darling
is but by my eye with the second iris going
round and round and round
around you

from the crisp airway betwixt two tall buildings

I always contrived that
My mind fought in a different stairwell
Then the general surroundings
And though we may pound a race
To the office cei9ling to bust
Through that pupil door, it is still
A scream across the alley way

But to let the suits dance
To let them spin their neckties down by their waists
Is to soak my sandaled feet in brew coffee
To let the coffee brew
Dance suits, dance

I've temporarily surmised that
The things that sport their existence
Like fine tweed suit jackets
Around my eyeballs and touch pads
That these light wave briefcases
Are of a different class of office supplies
Than stapled to the comprehension of everyone

And let the suits dance
Let them shackle their wristwatches here and there
And let my rooted feet soak up the brew
And drink, the tuber femur through
Dance suits, dance

Perhaps during fifteen minutes of break
You can lap me up, gulp me down
My eyes are dark like coffee
Perhaps I drink too much coffee
Over me you can bark your talk
And drip your saliva down your neck
I could never think to drink your spit

So just let the suits dance
Let them rejoice in cuffs and collars disarray
I'll just let myself brew
My contemplations being just percolations
But oh look at those suits dance

Monday, November 21, 2005

impossible propositions expelled from great distances...

We could submerge and re-emerge
And drink of each other’s breaths
Like tides that gulp the shore

Take in bubbles, a compressed for consumption
And whirlpool our lungs with glass
Our eyes be blue tide pools, maelstroms

This limb I grasp is
but a ripple
The hair I cup in a conch
These follicles sigh the sea

Maybe when it's chilled, our breaths
will crystallize
And as solid mass, buoyant, will ascend glacial
Oh the ships our words will sink

Ourselves will condensate and the sea become
such osmosis
We'll rain within each other
Live life feasting on our ebbs thick

I will bath with your salient skin and you will bath in me
Until that bathtub voice wakes our lungs
And we drown and evaporate