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Awoken by sudden flashes of painted bricks slipping into my skin
I hid inside the newly bare nail beds
chewing on carbon copies of myself 
my teeth clicked

scrubbing the rythm and blues desk 
iron blood 
and pipping hot yearning 
blistering essence corrupting hard structured cores

fallen by melted desert 
clinging like sizzling frying pans
I collapsed into tearful sheets and darkened plastic bags
that carried soley ripping ribbon

ripping ripping
tearing searching
hands clasped together
echoing like wooden side walks and sinful unconscious 
I ripped my way to you

Awoken by the drone of thoughts
the pounding of conditioned objects
the buzzing of lustful mosquitos

I dreamt of dead mothers
cherry sweet lips
broken homes
and cutting hair (‘She broke your throne and she cut your hair’)
awoken by the brutal honesty of distant angelic tones
by the cool whip of digested experiences
and possible regurgitation of them

pushed and shoved 
corrupted
abused
and broken
by bath tubs

sinking in awe of the purity found in nakedness
bareness of skin
and glistening brown thighs
I crouched in amenablness
yeilding to walls lost in water droplets
scorching sanity
leaked from creaking pipes

Scornful You are
full of scorn and scones

Sinful and depraved the backyard had no sun

spinning twirling  I sat int the candlelit closet
broken and catergorized
as something unearthly 
I awaited a misguided bus tour
and dirtied dresses
and bashful grins 

bashfully you grinned 

spitting spitting
dancing dancing
whispered in corse voices we spoke of the age of romantisism 

dressed in corse skin you said
you can not undress your skin

caked in muddy love you whiserpered,
‘if you sit on the floor you’ll get dirty’

I spoke of my lifetime and you of yours
I bathed in milk last night
beside corcodile thumbs
and removed my hair like skin

against rubber texture and lascivious lips
(which seemed to only have significance because they belonged to you)
I croaked on about cleanliness 


The world 
the earth
the dirt
became winded 
and the tippity tap of shoes became quite unbearable 
the shiftiness of internalized relations became so apparent
many seemed to be alone

heaviness weighed down
upon youngsters
and the scent of ciggerettes was a force of beauty
and desginated generations 


Suckle upon my blood

The back of my head is hot like melting wax

Outside the wild animals roam
crouching puncing thrashing 
Must we join them?
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