i have always wanted to write a poem that
thin wristed

smiling at stupid jokes

with hair tiny thousands dark

wanted to listen to French jazz on Saturday mornings

if only tell me something fragile say perhaps LOVE dreamless blustering of lips tumble
through years distinctly smelling of old sweaters in a careful blade of summer turn
and turn hotly shoulders into sometimes air the fullness of your breath
and fall from heaven (piercing gently every cloud)
in softness stricken with girl arms parting
stabbed by my arms parting
and fill me burning

light,

i say awe

                            and i say wonder

      i say whole mountains

o' fairies and clouds

  i say magic sprouting
between fingers splayed
o'er hot skin sweating
beads of sweating
little snaking streams of sweating

i sweet and kiss them
i tousle and drink them
i drink day and night
i drink fire and dirt
i'm their body

so darling dear
(dear darling so
sweating dear)
let me sprinkle you
beauty (i'll grow
a forest o' lips on
your *******)with
glitter and health

i'll stoke you purr gently
stroking dear i'll **** you
with me i'll just make y o   u,
                                              '
                                                    ,

                                        .

my almost body does
through nearly hands which
deep reeds–the naked bottoms of rivers;

wide spans eagerly of ***
wist twisting
the curv'd blade
of their
hot in June mouth's
(legs arms)

occaissionly
sweating
swept in
the resin
of warm rain;

(a universe is here between
the hairless bulb of every fertile's
crescent )

a dangerous slenderly perhaps
of open lips
reeling furiously
with starlight

(outside summer is a hot blab
on the pavement can be heard
the clip-clap of a horse goes
lathered in tremendous dew)

a crocus riding
the small spring hour
of a lady

in tooo many clothes

Either is the sun a bloodless folly trapped behind the mask of clouds? Only whispering its voice in errant brushes.

.



































                                                                                fly













                                                                                                                                                                          .

i d
on
't
want your
words

give me your
(sound/taste/touch)s

they say
so much more
than your
oral
vibrations
ever
could

what stands the sea on completely edge?

the roots of mountains very deeply into keen waters steaming. (like boysmen


at the shriveled inch
of girl *******



                                          )like
      ­                                        ,
        
                                            like      .l

      ­                                                    i

          ­                                                k    e the way intensely quivers
                                                         ­           grass to grow
                                                            ­        in plumes o' green and waxy

                                                           ­          the way smells
                                                          ­           the teeming
                                                         ­            of a city
                                                            ­         harshly
                                                         ­            into
                                                            ­         1
                                                              t­hgit
                                                            ­laturb
                                                          ­fist              
                                              ­        swelling
                                                ­                  to strike

                                                         ­   . A meadow where sleeps girls in the colours of Spring,



                
                                     ­                                                                 ­     '



                                                            ­                                                ,








       ­                                                                 ­                                    .

wind?(do you complete      
                                                
                                          the night strangely
                                                
     ylteews come sreferp  
                                                
                                          hairlipped blue eyes and satin
                                                                  
     gawking dellips hair          
                                                    
                                          with downy sable
                                                                  
                ruf  wired  dna          

                                           split
                                           eagerly
                                           thighs
                                            )

                                            A ****** parenthesis(waiting to be filled

i i i i i i i i i i i i i i i i i i i i i i i i i i i i i i i i i i i i i i I've
to
u
c
he
d
something
(on the other side of
understanding}

tasted its tasteless
colors

writhing 'neath
(time time time time)'s
translucent skin

it(')s ageless splendor
drip(ing)s hot little whispers
into my fleshy conscious

but, thoughting
i wonder:
"did it find me or did i find it"

?

.                                                                        like stars

                                                                         first nubile pins against darkness

                                                                         subtly quavering against darkness

                                                                         i tread amongst your hair over

                                                                         mountains i quickly unsheathe

                                                                         my soul and touch, by lewd drunk

                                                                         fingers, just the canny ribbons

                                                                         of your spine and cambered

                                                                         in my palm it does exactly the

                                                                         very painful beauty thing

Rigid, unlike, softly, more like, she's coming a rough god riding the stocks of
bobbing withers robed in music. she's quick static spark sore tips of fingers
  just meeting with my tips of fingers just with grooves barely braying over
  one or the others me we sweetly are tumults of sparks raking ***** nails
   over backs pinions extend fully kissing free air and up into shaking
    clouds her minute jiggling abdomen i'm home there in between the beads
     of startling clarity and rush of sudden acute blissful angles (more like
      delightful swirling clutter, her hips are like) turning back and forward
       back and forward writhing sails of pleasure billowed skin her
        ultimate final tongue that staggers magnificently like a doe in the striped
         coat of furious tigers she has fanged jaws gently stabbing young
          blades my neck (a short column of stuttering electrons flickering
           against her blazing article of so unpure purely purring muscles
            slick and sinuously bound limbs an angelic fist's arm on my
             teeth suddenly flush with blood.
              
                         she is many
                     she is one
                   she is a multitude
                   she is a slight twist
                    to the hairs on the
                     the back neck   (of my)           .                  A
                                                                            neck meekly
                                                                           scratched with
                                                                              nails abruptly
                                                                        slaughtering quiet
                                                                       disheveled minutes
                                                                      in her merry cavern
                                                                                               wails

cream the soft you are is body
white

             shoulders


completely neat in kissing
easily blades

between muscles rigidly
tight and folding

                 folding


          and

fi


              n


     ger


                                s



yoursmine
teeth please too
a bit at least
because cream

the body soft

you are

is hurt nicely pleasant
and you know


                 (like i know)



pretty is pain

ilike a littlefatsloppyugly, which about
tightness is folded cellulite, stretch marks
and screaming neon in flats (fingernails)
very short barely hair that almost doesn't
(still that easy clutched nicely pulls back

                violent feminine oral
                                                       )

head arched neck back choking *** tanned
just a bit like rolling thunders spilling tenderly
split thighs like ******* spit ache very slowly
break

                           (in my hands)

a finger knuckle deep


                                             (SuK)

one eternity awaits the final heavy lidded collapsing
                   breath;

"Unfortunately, in reality, it doesn't really matter how you feel on the inside; it's what you project outwardly that has meaning. No one can look inside you. They cannot see or hear what you do not divulge. You are entirely in control of the way people perceive you.

Speaking and giving off of yourself is the most powerful mechanism you have in your hands. You can get the things you want and control your life simply by adjusting what's on the edifice.

You can be a ****** up wreck on the inside, but as long as you do not let this out, as long as it is not perceivable in your character, no one can know.  

In fact, to the contrary, you can, despite these feelings, build an image of confidence and power. This is what others come to know, and this becomes the shared reality."

the caress i feel

          is my own fingersunlightrainwaveseyelashes


of sweaty and inimitable curling
Saturdays

                     the twine


of their bodies


                                the gusset


of neat and white corners

soft and soft and soft

always



                   always



    always


eyelashes prickling tingle
a multitude of tickle singeing


muscles and hunger

eating and lank

hulking and brutal

skinny and timid


the specters in books
my window suddenly looking out on the bay

ships

dreamily swept upon turgid waters

and a boy(on the edge of his bed)

milkwhite,

                           you're so. and

warm sticky

'round each finger

thick and
white and.
your stomach is

                                         cream

it is bitter an
D soursweet  
it feels like dough
firm and it froths
with writhing muscles Milk

what R,a;In doth make
                                       this hollow sOn


              quaking of

daughters(unflowered)                                  .     ­             buds open


           craving a tenuous meting  of flesh

you,ll find some agreeable. who shalt salt your petals.


    little whims

                                                         y  :



(your sugar is sour)

that came in a pale dress(blue)and without fingers
feeling every bud tightly closed
                                                          :
                                                            NIGHT
there's room enough
                                           just
in you for me
                              and your dress is sheer
and barely
                       i argue with it
practically because i want to
marry our skin
in2 1 body (yoursandmine)ours

                    i'll ask your ear how it likes my mouth

hot and
      
                             kissing

i'll hang it with my tongue and breath

                          i'll

with no clothing naked and vulnerable
let you have every inch
of every inch
(and i'll feed you a river of me)

that comes in no-thing
                               body bare and wanting
                               of rough hush
                               NIGHT
                               (and without feeling) fingers

come in to me, your heart
and mingle intensely
(the muss, my fragrance)
thy nostril flared

deepishly to inhale:

the pistil


(Love's rose bared)

i got inside you last night all stupid and naked between the rubber of your
jelly lips and licked the deliberate threads of your ribs who were littered
with my skin; the gruff shale of my livid dust got sticking in your niches
and your little secret back ways and your valleys and your mountains
and your velvet terrifically peach

.
















                                                                                    b










                                                                                    r    e                                                                                   a





theth

e s
l
o
     w

l   y
      steam

of
      some

halfish
twinkling
infinitely pale
evening

when
out of ****
languishing
darkness
lifts
terribly its
marvelous
trundling deep
cool




                                                                                     and





the when world was
it were a
pistil
o'
the bulb
of hushingly
crushed mutest
with drabs of hulking
orange imped to 'er
******* 'er
tongue
'nd 'er
arms long
went out
like the
sea goes
out
under the moon
it goes out rushing
faster than

lungs were
the there was
and
o'er
'em was

R i B s

(

         bump


                      bUmpy

                                       bumP

                                                     BuMP

                                                                        )ribs and



a pair o'
darling ****
with
o'er 'em
a neatishly intense
girl head
with lips
it
drank the
air
in swooning
tiny
heaps









               i









                                                       t








                                                                              S










                                                                                                                   P









                                                                                                                                                                    RUNG









from
'er face
it went like
a blade goes
sharply quick
into softly         I


and took
the 'er
it
the
blade
o'
'er
cutting
i
the mouth
and (in my mouth)
cupped her kiss
instantly
which lingered
more brutally
than

b

         r




                     e


                                 a






                  t



                                       he,




                                                    .



                                    
                                   '




                                                  ,





                                    .

love (notlove)

i think you cruelly

i think you distinctly perfumed of hair

lavendermint (jasmine) stars and night                       think

you smell like cheap, cigarettes, coffee                        think

and you taste like cardboard dust and                         think

(linger ultimately fatally clinging) smoke                   think

lovenot love you i                                                            thin­k

but so comely smooth olive (skin)                                think

unthink             ­                                                                 ­drink

lucid light
you're
far
too bright

i'll slit
your
throat
and
drink the night

wh O o         Sh       ! ) the sun sprechen
a malleable droplet
of porous handles
meandering careless clumps o
               f
                                                                 a and the ghost
        of spectral
                                          mouths ephemerate
delightful femurs
                                   loaded sensual creamy morsels
some alabaster muscles singing sordid

            or a too short skirt
                                                          i can'

t              kept my skin
         burning cherry infatuating scald
i barely
              am
  real
                               at the
           pursed
                                                    eternity

          of
                                thy immense
     finite
                                                                                   coffin

the it need
you and by
febrile coarse

"****"me

the



you





your frail
uncommon
heat


it




feels
(*****)

the like
an eating of stings


feels grossly wonderful
(herking jerking wonderful)
to choke

to choke so nicely
to choke so pretty

grinning hot
a flash of sharpness:

redbeautifully scratching
me my oh why

not
   the shaking

          you


are not unlike
a very bud
split
at
the nape
of crowning

lussst

(a flower of my bed
so delicate shook

by cruel thrusting
the parting;

                      hip's crook

                                             )

sick f,lOu;rIshIng
                                         calamity by what abscess you **** hotly moisture
'pon the sticky damsel of
                                                   life
who art brevity greased                       or we argue

(scrawny tiffs) with god (who smells like nothings

yay though it be. still we are. if not only a morsel

i am a lot like sleeping laughter
in faintly room warmer windows
bound tightly with light's loosest
fingers mingling with the atomized
aroma of a basket of flowers dusted

                  just

with barely afternoon's short rumpled
heat glaring in through the slight
abrasion of sight I call my window
peeling with fresh strums of Summer's
fair cords singing me softly into the
palm of night's tiny hands

night come hands
(briefly with tulips)
beneath infinitely
moon sliver
your star freckled
******* are and my
hands between breathing
cuddle and ****
funny how staggers
the curves of your
hips with silver and
gushing thick flowers

perhaps tulips perhaps
ivory and petals silken and wet
with your tongue
nightandhands coming
with ******* and pallid
and skin
(beneath infinitely tulips)

       and apple trees

niTe?

do stars hang from you nimbly

dancing in breezes shook the

apple heavy bent boughs of

laughing gargantuan trees

                                            nite you are first me

                                            and secondly

                                            you are quivering with intense

                                            feverish quips of ladies

                                            so thick and exacting legs

                                            are completely tumbled open

                                            waxy perfect thighs

                                                                             (you are skinny limped

                                                                              skirts of light

                                                                              about the hair of forests

                                                                              you cavort with

                                                                              ***** sighs

                                                                              and you are so

                                                                              indescribably still

                                                                              even on balmy summer nights in the moment of an hour you are a park filled with me

and going about the beauty of your small adept

cheeks i do the terrifically kissing thing

and i love you

)

.



                                                                                 you're
                                                                               all1
                                                                             1sweated out collection
                                                                           of ink and flesh
                                                                         i love that quivering
                                                                       that smell and quaver
                                                                         that pile of thighs and
                                                                           lips.they snarl and fidget
                                                                             under the corded
                                                                               symphony o' me
                                                                             and stifled nocturne
                                                                           fast and rushing slowly
                                                                         down your neck and cheek
                                                                       crumples my pink set mouth
                                                                         from which i breath
                                                                           a corpulent giddy roar
                                                                             into your pond
                                                                               scattering across you
                                                                                 such ripples
                                                                               dearly i
                                                                             do that
                                                                           totally painful beauty things
                                                                         (a doe thing pretty
                                                                       which like you
                                                                     is just)

the day did weep and thus i bent my lips to its ear, whispering, "why do you cry so?" through crystal drips it chokes out, "because though i am born each morning i die each night. in infinite resurrection i am trapped. thus i never truly live" to this, i, having no reply, sat and cogitated

what am I I don't know I think I'm a boy I grew up one time reading a book with a gun in my hand with a pellet gun in my hand I grew up a boy

feels like, your mouth, i like it
little hot crushed
(wettest ember of thy face)
to mine, darling, your

hair

                     is immense

tangled briefly

with my fingers

against the excelling nub
of thy fragrant skull                dear, i

press drink and of, into

                                            my

just i

     opening

            my soul
                          
                     oD
                        and
          drawtuo
                        fumbles
                emos
                        unbright
ecnecsednacni
                             some
                                       fuckhot

                                                    magic
                                                                 peeling
                                                                                out
                                                                                        the innumerable
                                                                                                                      jeer
                                                                                                                             of my
                                                                                                                                         and me
                                                                                                                                                        deepest

so                                                                                                                       into
this flaking night           we   went                pl
                                                                                             u
                                                                                                          
                                                                                                      n
                                                                                                         g
                                                                                                           i
                                                                                                           gn
(of winters throat )
the sallow column
                                          ofwho,sneck
i'm a gently kissing

restless between.         all  full of


                           empty
some nothing son;      feels the silence
                                 crepting
up the legs of sound. to rapt all the noisy
with           brilliant       sheets         of quiet

there are so many me's
which shall
i
ware
today

(?)

something girl though fragile likes

     (like i like to)


                                   Hurt

i will f
            a
             l
               l in

     the

correctness of your gaze

(for only you

        shall i ever be)

the filigree embellished
by the gray stacks grown weary
to lean cadaverous shells
on the mark of scarlet's

greet the empty chamber door
swung shut a sudden eyelid
powdered tears riven ink shoulder

   who isn,t? a fear of nothing
     consumes the smooth roughness
  of

L
     )
          



       e
         a


      f


        :


            U

                f
               l
                i
               ck
            e
              r


                 U(
                fl
         u
     t     t
er1f
       r
       oman

                 y2

                   on
                    ea
                   r
           t

              h


               )


                  (


         (
                     )
                       me

i have always loved the summer who
walks through white splendor the hot
looseness of rough *** in a cheap motel
somewhere in Oregon.

in whose body fits most easily Spring: youth adorns


(petals full; stem with thorns)

it wAS i came by nervous steed
over valley and time to a stream
trickling sickly between your *******
; and it was

          it was

my mouth; and tongue: a RiveR.
questioning her skinny pride

              and taken

my limpid bride

i have stood where boys have stood
an hour of their body in the ground
from their backs to their hands up
pricking gently a cool stroke of wind

and each parting softly sleep stole
into the easy crush of rain, and into
the always agape lips of wanting spring

let'
s lay our bones against each others
and grind a bit Dear

                (Dear lady)

Grind their playful angles
and if it hurts a bit my dear
         (my long Dear
                My lithe dear
                   my ample skinny little hips Dear)

well then we.ll shovel abruptly
our callous gloating hands
all about each others bodies
and barely shatter silence
    with

         our common sensual howls

by what courtesy of some small voice does the city speak,

little and so much

it says, "by the way have you seen the old man in
his tired skin,

goodbye,

waiting next to the young drunks so loud underneath they are so loud and not a whisper can escape ,  "

the city, and it talks too much it

cannot be heard

over its own
voice
          .

laugh whole mountains                 ,

you got sinews deep as

rivers in you(they’re sle

eeping down there in y

ou and they fan out toA

narrow hairless delta)an

d that’s where i am

if do i(upon a rising fallen)
lift first myself to teeter
with breaths totally mingling
on the very subtle quiver

c
r)
e  e
  p(
in
g

and up the face of brevity
to one eternally beginning
(in were mounds of poppies
who vaulted swiftly blood
to swim upon your face