Build me up to infamy |
I want to wear my pain like a warrior,scars and amputated parts in plain view,a trail of the hearts I've left behind.I want you to speculate,to invent stories about my battles,build me up to infamy."S...
Posted by on Mon, 04 May 2009 19:01:00 GMT |
I am knocking you down with the palm of my eye |
Oh, how we change with the rising of the moon,fangs and claws emerge,cocain-fueled sex acts that no one will pretend come from love, whiskey binges that leave us living out of bags for far too long,th...
Posted by on Wed, 18 Feb 2009 12:09:00 GMT |
A song of myself |
Do you remember that summer,we were still golden-haired, bloody-kneed with cakey, orange-clay elbows,spent a week on Uncle's houseboat?
Do you? No?
Just as well.
I could hear the all...
Posted by on Mon, 21 Jan 2008 11:00:00 GMT |
Selling our secrets for vengeance... |
We walk with turned-out pockets,upturned palms,selling our secrets for vengeance,turning down the pie, the kind with the modest taste.Standing on streetcorners and sobbing in coffeeshops for everyone ...
Posted by on Sun, 20 Jan 2008 16:58:00 GMT |
zroooooooooomin |
..>
On a day spent meditating with the air conditioner,limbs move of their own accord and I find myself slithering,ass up,across the kitchen floor.My belly feels cool and hollow and I think my voic...
Posted by on Sat, 15 Sep 2007 14:00:00 GMT |
Work yo elbows |
I turn you over in my palm,like a coin.You shake your hair at me,do a two-step and wedge yourselfbetween the middle and index fingers,never in the mood for sweet talk.I try to tell you I just wanted t...
Posted by on Sat, 08 Sep 2007 15:13:00 GMT |
Piss-flavored cobblestones |
Our bellies are empty n' talkin shit,too much time away from home,pretending to be content with bruises and bandaged feet.Our palms are raw and pink;been draggin ourselves home across piss-flavored co...
Posted by on Wed, 06 Jun 2007 16:14:00 GMT |
Alligator scale rain |
You could say the change is in the air-this air is thick with smoke and the smell of things left in the sun too long.These clouds rain plywood bits and alligator scales.I've begun to collect them off ...
Posted by on Mon, 04 Jun 2007 19:12:00 GMT |
I have been known to conjure up blood |
Holy man-holier than I, with balled-up fists and a wide, gaping mouth.I've trained my tongue to catch obscenities before they hit the back of my teeth, saving you from sharpened words sure to leave co...
Posted by on Mon, 04 Jun 2007 07:46:00 GMT |
Salty |
You're breakin' bottles over unsuspecting heads cuz voices sound too much like Archangels singing "Amazing Grace."(It's understandable you're shaken, not having heard them post-conception, and only th...
Posted by on Sun, 08 Apr 2007 02:38:00 GMT |
