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short-sight.short-sight
there's a mist sleeping over our town everyone's turning on lights at 2pm fearing even cautious driving. smug that it'll pass back to the estranged sea
but it's not lifting 'four days and counting' perhaps it's permanent, part of a new order of short-sight; where the air reverberates and no one can sleep.
I'll form a group to take advantage we'll go out naked and free-form structures in fields shrunken but happy by the cold. no one will believe they really saw us 'it must have been animals shriek
by =brinx-
all the above.all the above
VW engine humming under ducktape hood. Warm metallic blanket against my freckled back.
Under October friday; I'm hands-under-head oblivious to the car stereo thudding, twisting along my ivory bone spine.
I'm rapt watching nightsky aeroplanes cross paths to perhaps collide; raining synthetic daggers, jagged metals, plastic sheets isle seats, and all the paraphernalia one takes on holiday.
my worn eyes as dimmer-switch mind out - i'm thi
by =brinx-
summer's plus.summer's plus
Row house summer sprinklers hissing like angry little helicopters, over the top of hosepipe ban,
imposed by man's dry watering can sat dozing dreaming of raining water supplies down throats of brittle flowers - gulping, waving, flailing limbs at attacking bees. anything for sexual privacy.
Shirtless guys swaying as they walk past park bench gents under newspaper their shirts tucked into jealous j
by =brinx-
water hole.water hole
if one focused on the bigger picture one would create an elephant school; and force them all into a corner where they'd be hit with shame. they'd try to understand it later in life -- long memory staying.
one would round up all the animals, and subject them to ridiculous mathematics and language structures and white-hair teacher on the verge of tears explaining that it was for the herd's benefit, when lying at the water hole.
.
by =brinx-
Favourites
go down, in history,/go down, in history,
he found me ,a penny, and palmed off my dirt. and made me read poetry under the influence in a parked Cadillac.
that first night when he carried me upstairs I counted ceiling beams and named them after elementary school teachers who probably died of emphysema the year I learned to drive.
/
I am using him to get well known and he has grown-up food in his fridge, so I
can stop going hungry. I missed four meals last week and I can see weight loss in my shower drain, in my r
by ~WhoKilledKirov
spit.spit
She picked me up in Iowa, slouched on a three-rung fence shooting birds with a finger and a thumb, watching them peck apart jet vapor with pencil-lead beaks
despite my best efforts. Last time I’d ever see State, and I ain’t no good as a boy without a bullet.
We drove, splitting cornfields with a green Chevrolet truck- like a holy hand, this exodus of mine. And I pet the black-eyed dog that left wet tongue maps on the passenger window. I always liked a path held together with spit, better than mile-marker road.
She took
by ~WhoKilledKirov
hollywood remakeii.hollywood remake
whereupon aristotle became parent to the conquering of nations
and oliver stone fathered an unruly movie
so my film professor adopted me during college
and when my potential imploded expectations falling from artist
to Barnes & Noble bookseller it was a pity that
the last frustration i could find was a failure to locate la cage aux folles for his mid-term on gender-benders
i had to sell him the birdcage instead and a sad excuse about misplaced merchandise
i.
let's not f
by ~zphoenixdownz
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I gave the green tentacle a bowl of wax fruit, and then joined his band
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"The ending is brilliant. Seriously. I might get that inscribed on my casket someday so God will understand."
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"The ending is brilliant. Seriously. I might get that inscribed on my casket someday so God will understand."
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"The ending is brilliant. Seriously. I might get that inscribed on my casket someday so God will understand."
Spread the word, and then start spreading your own words like butter onto a bready page - I want something interesting to judge, and it better have more inventive metaphors than that one I did just there, or I'll be very disappointed!
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when she walked, her knees cracked like a pick-up truck driving full-force over a deer carcass.
~stupidvagina
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I gave the green tentacle a bowl of wax fruit, and then joined his band
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