Goodnight

I had something to say
when my teeth started to part
But decided against it.

Chicago

Strung between Astoria and another hotel
plane full of pretty girls
tousled heads on lover’s shoulders,
wish I were one
but my shoulder is sleeping
in the bed I left unmade.
I was so good at leaving,
before I met you.
Before I met you,
I left everyone I ever loved.

Shove worry behind skull skeletons,
slam the door before this speed can slip
through bony fingers, slide into my eyes.
Go back to sucking your dick in a dirty public bathroom,
we’re better at sex than fear.
You first said you loved me
while the guy who loved kissing you
was fucking me
straddling you.
The light on this flight is warmer than early winter
on your face two hours later
over decaf coffee and religion,
another 8am diner dinner.
Perfect.

We build tomorrow every day of our lives.
Funny how you can be aware of something for years
without giving much of a damn,
then wake up one day
and find the most exciting thing your world’s ever known.
Tomorrow we can be anything we want.
Is the ennui I suffered from
Common to our cohort?
Modern life prescribed
School 5 to 25
Work till death
The chronicled coma epidemic.

Familiar as frightening,
so similar as to seem a known commodity.
Safe, whether or not it’s true
bound
to happen
Let’s make it so,
quicksilver dawn
after today’s heavy thunderstorms.
leave milk out,
I’ll come round more often.
Death's too common to leave emotion unexplored
looking at you, I feel.

All Tomorrow's Parties

Forever means as long as you can, none of us is.
Swallow pharmaceutical alphabet
Australian tongue,
news hits New York before Toronto.
Reputation flies faster than I do,
and I get around.
Trade LA for NY
Berlin for Oz.

Today envelope lips deliver a kiss
to the beautiful boy
who knows my mouth isn’t all his.
Nets working,
youth labors for us-
Gorgeous infants,
so motivated
it’s killing our parents,
we’re those beautiful babies
screen screaming in light streams,
left our native South for the frozen North.
Crazy lady.
Extra bags to get through customs,
I’m coming home without an address.

He met me homeless,
he met me alone.
On a Sunday in Ramadan we pulled Persian smoke through American lungs,
pineapple cancer and cinnamon dreams gleaming in silicone blue.
I’ve reached out,
I’m finger fucking faith in the back of a Manhattan taxi.
Speechlessly thankful for the spectacle we create,
strange lovely domestication.
Mop on a leash,
thin black shadows stiletto stalk golden afternoons.

Love that lifts limits,
Behind stage makeup,
we’re young angels laughing in a concrete jungle,
bloodstained palms etched in psalms,
holding hands,
hearts,
heads.
Swapping confidence in our spit,
everyone’s nice when you’re beautiful and naked
so set the outfits shrinking.
Giggles ricochet off the sidewalk
like padded bullets.
I’m selectively deaf
Till my iPod melts
We’ll build tomorrow
today.

Easy Girls

A girl I'd never fuck
asked me if I ate pussy
I thought of your sea foam eyes and crocodile tears
And I laughed at her.

When you said you'd always love me
and never anyone else
I hope you were lying
for your sake.

Statute Of Limitations

It's feel, not felt,
that's relevant.

She wrote her diary on my tongue
cut my lips to scab seal secrets
but I'm healing.

She was everything
except tomorrow.

I'm stray cat nervous
he's a room of rocking chairs
but I eat too much pussy to be one
Don glitter spit coat,
we'll strip further
it'll be gorgeous
just like the over edited images
Baby's drug haze dreams.

Blue Chalk on Gritty Fists

Fly out of New York at sunset,
new year’s dawn at backbrain forefront.
2010 hope higher than this plane.
I see stability on the horizon.
Predictability, permanent mailing address.
Minor miracles,
little things mean everything,
call at takeoff to make sure I’ll call when I land.
Miss me, kiss me,
make me eat
sleep
hope
dream,
you make me human,
I’ll make us gods, angel.
Cherries coming,
addictive reverb swings low.
I repeat myself to reassure myself,
because the fact is that I am very young and terribly afraid.
Fear is an expensive luxury I can’t afford.
Brittle confidence is better than nothing,
And I’ve been running since March
so I’ll face this head on
even if I chip in the wind.
Flying fragments spill down,
I am volcanic ash smeared across her Catholic forehead,
nourishing his garden.
Fill my hair with roses
Don’t throw the bouquet.

His and Hers Hairspray

I'm a creeper.
I watch people sleep.
Wake up, recoil
Neon blue X rating your dreams

He wakes up to this
succubus in a t shirt
and clings like a child
to the moldy life line thrown out
during summer camp swim lessons

"Turn over"
I wait for the
don't look at me
he gives me an
"I want to hold you."

The Aquanet's gone to my brain
I can't sleep
But I've fallen and I won't get up.