tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-64265202024-03-13T01:35:48.016-07:00For Passion's SakeI swear. It's fun to be kissed in the dark.Shttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15213396173566629285noreply@blogger.comBlogger32125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6426520.post-10325781506871910932010-11-27T13:46:00.001-08:002011-03-15T09:08:23.892-07:00they're such poets.Shttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15213396173566629285noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6426520.post-72875107894334064872010-10-23T10:48:00.000-07:002010-10-23T11:04:37.043-07:00i become an empty sack<br /> flapping loose<br />what body was - now nothing but appetite<br />nothing but dustShttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15213396173566629285noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6426520.post-30803838482645408022010-09-04T13:57:00.000-07:002010-12-18T04:21:57.019-08:00listening to your music breaks my body..<br /><br />i want your bones. i want your kiss. <br />i want to be awake to see all that you do.Shttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15213396173566629285noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6426520.post-91161188388902088262009-12-10T17:33:00.000-08:002010-11-17T09:39:56.277-08:00I begin to understand that you never <span style="font-style:italic;">even glimpsed</span> what was inside of me<br />even when I was so open -- as wide open as I am capable of stretching.<br />And it makes me sad to realize that we lose our flexibility with age<br />and that I can count on more of a struggle each time I attempt to<br />stretch wide again<br />in my future.Shttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15213396173566629285noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6426520.post-48732592706372092562009-11-28T18:28:00.000-08:002010-11-17T09:43:40.166-08:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyWrPNPcHonDybQ__LOHZSWpRBc6bS4CE6srKvaHGCu739NsgEofQtojaVcCTWOSaODIQ7VptXnl3mM3n6FvI2_v_OJ1mRXdX9dVstvXroFC5aSqCzKSRkgB81p-OCqQgl0yOVeQ/s1600/laflaneuse++transfert.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyWrPNPcHonDybQ__LOHZSWpRBc6bS4CE6srKvaHGCu739NsgEofQtojaVcCTWOSaODIQ7VptXnl3mM3n6FvI2_v_OJ1mRXdX9dVstvXroFC5aSqCzKSRkgB81p-OCqQgl0yOVeQ/s320/laflaneuse++transfert.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5409358843449628834" /></a><br />The streets were wet -- some were rivers.<br /><br />He welcomed me into his home and we stood far apart as he said<br />"She's so good and she learned so much from you. Talk to her. <br />Let her in."<br />I collapsed my bags in his corner.<br /><br />His hair was different, I noted, and his surprise at me left only that knowing silence <br />a low tilted chin and hints of shame. <br /> <br />For the trickery -- there was no wall (in fact there is no wall)<br />and so I rose and fumbled, too<br />with him <br />there<br />until the strange touch of lips to my forehead brought me again to consciousness and resignation. <br />Outside the rain seemed to hurt even the pavement with each shocking, heavy strike.<br />I felt the fear build it's predictable pocket of tears in my lungs and<br />strain my neck<br /><br />The rest then blurs<br />everything but my face on his beautiful knees. (<span style="font-style:italic;">gracefully letting the woman accept</span>)<br /> I lay long and low with my hands gently tucked behind his legs as he waited, I think<br />A game I never liked, at all. I've always had a weak stomach.<br /><br />The colors of the rain were inside, too, throughout-- and I saw the other rooms eventually. <br />They loomed tall and empty with strange patch rugs of different colors -- one had yellow walls<br />and neither had windows.<br /> <br />I went out <br />below <br />to the stricken, drowning street <br />where I was quickly swallowed by it's ghostly dancing performers,<br />charmers, butchers, smokers..<br />costumed salesmen, neon signs, splashing women <br />hot baking, hot roasting<br />and the smell of only rain as if<br />it were the one remaining element<br />as if it had rained so long -- enough to soak entirely through<br />taking.. becoming the scent of everything else in the square<br />and the next square<br />and the next square<br />and my home..<br /><br />Turning one corner took me around many and I was lost.<br />His door was gone so<br />I wandered late<br />waist deep sometimes<br />and near the end of the dusk hour I waded into the place that was supposed to be mine -- I found it as I had never seen it. <br />Thin splitting posts held the banister<br /> sloped down to my face<br />studying<br />the mess of reeds <br />scrubbing with current<br />the soggy, blood painted stairs.Shttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15213396173566629285noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6426520.post-90206497394632329962009-11-24T23:46:00.001-08:002010-01-04T08:43:38.671-08:00The creature rolls it's tongue<br />longing for it's foggy breath <br />and for the road where it used to lay in the late winter nights. <br /><br /><br />strangers -- these city streets <br />(<span style="font-style:italic;">doesn't it take one to know one..?</span>)<br />when are they this quiet, anyway?<br />And no smell of cattle! No stars at all.. <br /><br />she wakes. <br /><br />she rolls decidedly away.Shttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15213396173566629285noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6426520.post-83423055395750858702009-11-09T21:55:00.000-08:002010-10-23T06:25:50.791-07:00I'm a hunchback. <br /><br />I take this shell<br />I snap it light in my hand<br />roll its dust in my fingers<br />slice deepShttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15213396173566629285noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6426520.post-46342183387822391342009-11-03T19:19:00.000-08:002010-12-09T09:36:28.371-08:00I want to do this with as much of my own thought <br />and my own senses<br />my senses<br />as I possibly can.Shttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15213396173566629285noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6426520.post-67370537662558064252009-10-10T23:23:00.000-07:002010-12-18T04:32:24.333-08:00My face is in the pillow's cushion inhaling<br />your sleeping breath<br />wet <br /><br />it is a wild thing this.<br />I don't know where I began or if I'll stop. These things we do <br /> granting to some such intimacy <br />-- giving such gifts...<br />I'll hold your hair<br /><br />and you can hold mine, too. If you like.Shttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15213396173566629285noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6426520.post-41014941572816265022009-09-04T01:29:00.000-07:002010-11-17T09:45:54.887-08:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvsfMZnZ42LN9rOOY29T491v8xyOeKaPQrkV7MhmR6Dm0W6VfA6XCqB8K7g8zBDXtActxY-I3if8GUo3zQRtSZQlVdYK6u8up5lzTSRBx0rDatwrgHevS7_3gZ-Z-WCzAJteqyzA/s1600-h/IMG_4002.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvsfMZnZ42LN9rOOY29T491v8xyOeKaPQrkV7MhmR6Dm0W6VfA6XCqB8K7g8zBDXtActxY-I3if8GUo3zQRtSZQlVdYK6u8up5lzTSRBx0rDatwrgHevS7_3gZ-Z-WCzAJteqyzA/s320/IMG_4002.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5377526907868177170" /></a><br /><br /><br />We can run side by side together if you'd like. <br />I don't mind if you get ahead...<br />I will watch your hair flickering in the distance and keep running <br />toward you. <br /><br />Some folks, you see, they don't know the pleasure it is to watch<br />as you jolt and push and pant. <br /><br />In the end what if I were to come upon you<br />sprawled in the grass with your ears red from the wind?<br />I could lay my body next to yours!<br />Tight against the earth<br />vertigo<br />together<br />looking at the sky as we let our breathing slow.Shttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15213396173566629285noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6426520.post-69129111372675820662009-09-01T01:43:00.000-07:002011-03-05T06:59:36.365-08:00I think a couple of hours passed. The wind outside was cold and the sun dimmed<br /><br />slowly I sunk deeper into the cushion of your couch and you leaned on me. Or I leaned on you? I only know where we landed, I guess,<br />on our feet and walking out the doors. One after another. Leaving.<br />I wrapped my scarf tight and concentrated.<br /><br />the thought of the kiss (that struggle - the thought!)<br />I said "I see, well, let's get some food then" or something...<br /><br /><br />But more importantly than all of that<br />why the fuck is any of it<br />potent enough to even create a memory inside of me?<br />it was just <br />some day. <br />You are just some fellow.Shttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15213396173566629285noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6426520.post-26243593629709782162009-08-21T16:07:00.000-07:002010-12-18T04:39:36.125-08:00She lay on the bench stretched naked with thin and curling tattoos spanning her whole body that I'd never seen before. They wrapped her thighs like weeds, wound up her stomach mounting the ribs I knew so well. They lead my eyes: I followed to her wrists and fingernails. <br />Her hair was different but I didn't comment. Instead I slapped her thigh and again with the back of my hand. Then her belly. "Where have you been?!" <br />Instead of answering my scream she calmly pulled me to lay on the bench with her where we didn't quite fit and my shoulder hit the table. But the company was so nice... and missed, and welcome. <br />In the silver light the wood of the picnic table looked wet but wasn't. She was dry and cool. I don't know who's birthday it was.. their candles were already blown out, sucked on and sitting on the edges of the bystanders paper plates. I couldn't hear their talking and since I couldn't feel their eyes either I didn't pay them any thought and lowered my cheek to her sternum for a quick moment before leaving. <br /><br />Around the corner near the woods I met the man again. (This is all about self control, right?) Standing with my head all the way back: the stars were brighter, brighter and brighter as he finger fucked me. Down to the leaves -- his knees and my back. So it went. On my way. (Maybe not about self control at all... oh, fuck! everything is about self control.)<br /><br />To family. To the end of this. I found my brother's ship and we went to space. <br /><br />Say goodbye...Shttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15213396173566629285noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6426520.post-44563571987255687552009-08-12T16:49:00.001-07:002010-11-17T09:52:59.200-08:00fucking bisexuals.Shttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15213396173566629285noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6426520.post-11475708770984237592009-07-18T19:31:00.000-07:002010-12-18T04:41:02.142-08:00the alternative.<br /><br /><object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/FaU59MnWCDY&hl=en&fs=1&"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/FaU59MnWCDY&hl=en&fs=1&" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object>Shttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15213396173566629285noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6426520.post-73747821052697670152009-06-16T14:54:00.000-07:002010-12-18T04:43:11.286-08:00I wish I didn't know my face.<br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVPXFGdLw0-mUrPJxaeDLIUdZMgKLpTGXMfTmK-NOO01F_4tV_2JItiwkFb3EbreQ5t2njng3bzcu6LfzPcX1b41ekoK1_RPD5_7saxkBh3dT-DYnAwSwQS9AoDVAusRziZWZgZw/s1600-h/shakti-004.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 246px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVPXFGdLw0-mUrPJxaeDLIUdZMgKLpTGXMfTmK-NOO01F_4tV_2JItiwkFb3EbreQ5t2njng3bzcu6LfzPcX1b41ekoK1_RPD5_7saxkBh3dT-DYnAwSwQS9AoDVAusRziZWZgZw/s320/shakti-004.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5348049447068238130" /></a><br /><br /><br />hideous voice <br />tells me in misleading groans<br />sever<br />swallow<br /><br />cataract<br /><br />I give my struggle<br />and the fog bonds<br />opacityShttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15213396173566629285noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6426520.post-11093864958216105812009-06-07T21:29:00.000-07:002009-06-08T05:40:49.272-07:00I want to throw it up.<br />Out of me.Shttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15213396173566629285noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6426520.post-34188884219735543932009-06-06T21:28:00.000-07:002010-11-17T09:52:35.113-08:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4lcJBIEcCZ0fxURyFG6zHETglem760zauvml6NNm1c9SQ1YGkiH1LIcxX3YoAumsxy60tJzjfn42uXJ34WhBpy8lFdJYtNXm1uta4dpFv0GtulyhTDqTZS9OOPO8VfJAOmSTLmQ/s1600-h/David+Plowden.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 228px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4lcJBIEcCZ0fxURyFG6zHETglem760zauvml6NNm1c9SQ1YGkiH1LIcxX3YoAumsxy60tJzjfn42uXJ34WhBpy8lFdJYtNXm1uta4dpFv0GtulyhTDqTZS9OOPO8VfJAOmSTLmQ/s320/David+Plowden.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5344443198139050162" /></a><br /><br /><br />After a while you won't want to come back anyway<br />but I don't think I could believe you if ever you did.<br /><br />These lines are in my face.<br />I'm older now<br /><br /><br /><br />I love you.<br />and<br />it moves me in the deep places.Shttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15213396173566629285noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6426520.post-38690394724635284192009-04-16T14:52:00.000-07:002010-12-18T04:49:19.749-08:00Drunk on sake with the tv muttering in the background I smell paint still wet<br />I have some sticky around my ankles.<br />These jeans don't belong to me.<br /><br />Sleeping upside down every night. Big spoon (I love your body) Dear friend show me what you are <br />I will happily keep you warm at night.<br /><br /><br /><em>Good or bad, who cares, they are all secrets anyway.</em>Shttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15213396173566629285noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6426520.post-28949105382955129432009-02-20T21:53:00.000-08:002009-05-21T08:30:48.350-07:00from the throbbing throat<br />comes the call<br /><br />we are simply human -- no other elevation<br />no lace or frill. <br />The edges of my mouth only become my cheeks<br />which only cover bone.Shttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15213396173566629285noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6426520.post-5969835894338300822009-01-08T15:24:00.000-08:002010-12-18T04:53:25.616-08:00He heaved that dog all the way up the hill behind our house<br /> Wet fur and maggots coming right out his ass<br />Papa sweating. <br />All the smells thickening in the heat. <br />I've seen him cry a hundred times but <br />these tears came right out of his chest <br /> he didn't breathe. <br /><br />the truck made it town, anywayShttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15213396173566629285noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6426520.post-13884305816192557682008-12-15T17:00:00.000-08:002010-12-18T04:57:03.501-08:00<span style="font-weight:bold;"> doesn't she just look like a movie star?</span>Shttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15213396173566629285noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6426520.post-87268922625263928022008-11-04T14:12:00.000-08:002010-11-17T13:33:51.404-08:00<span style="font-weight:bold;"><br />Last night again--- my dreams are staying with me. <br /><br />a river of people swimming frantically away --towards safety-towards the other shore-mud and tall reeds. <br />A bus and a Native American lover. Gut pulling fear and being held from behind. Big hands on my face that I might never feel blood warm again. Kissing and licking them and feeling his belly against my back. "don't you do this to me"<br />sharp want<br />sweat stinking trunks of cars<br />gunshots</span>Shttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15213396173566629285noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6426520.post-88642167580043141742008-09-16T22:02:00.000-07:002010-12-18T05:03:17.319-08:00My chair is blue and hard. I feel the tiny rivers in it's surface<br />and my arm is bruised<br />Inching all the way around the skin puckers and shines. <br />The hair folicles stand up and curl at the ends.<br /><br /><br />I slept in my car on the street.<br />I worked for poor jazz.<br />I haven't thought like this in a long time..<br />I had hoped I never would again.Shttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15213396173566629285noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6426520.post-38753676885080642862008-08-11T08:58:00.000-07:002010-12-18T04:59:09.527-08:00Soft baking shoulders<br />bending into and under <br />currents of sweet breath.<br /><br />You couldn't be lighter on your feet<br />with water curving aggressively around your calves<br />keeping us both half hoping.<br /><br />The dance fumbles <br />thin as air <br />expanding inside my chest.<br /><br />This motion is the pearl of the afternoon.Shttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15213396173566629285noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6426520.post-3425431040071007082008-07-24T08:10:00.000-07:002009-01-08T10:00:54.526-08:00Slowly all feet murmur in the morning fog<br />and lights shine from the walls of locked buildings.<br /><br /><br />I don't need to control my mind to have a happy life...Shttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15213396173566629285noreply@blogger.com0