Sunday, November 21, 2010

Rachel Was Right

listening to: patti smith 'redondo beach'




I wanna keep this secret okay it really wouldn’t do to let it out, a can full of moths, a nest full of wasps, a mouthful of smoke, one of those shirts with buttons all the way down when you’re feeling real impatient, it wouldn’t do, but damn, damn, I can’t keep it in and fuck, fuck, I couldn’t keep from staring, I’ve got a lover I’ve got a lover boy I’ve got a boy

There are these people that walk by my parlor window and they push these shopping carts full of shit, boxes and cans and broken pieces of tvs and her feet were small and slender and freckles fallen onto her arms like out of a pepper mill and her hair in her lazy eyes and damn, damn, I can’t keep it in and fuck, fuck, every thing I wanted made me shake like a choking engine, and now I’m just

Listening to Patti Smith over and over, I know that I’ve got that I’ve got a lover, I know that I’m in, that I’m in some shit now, I wish I could fucking find her but I just don’t know how, I shoved all my cards in her perfect hand, wond’ring if she could tell that (I’ve got a man) but I don’t care about a fucking thing as I listen to the song, I went looking for you, are you gone gone?

Wednesday, November 17, 2010

night: still hot

listening to: grouper

you may find me under the heavy water oh unbearable sweetness holding sleepy eyes and fever wracked chest to my chest and a trembling it is still so hot so hot we sweat--broken heel aching i said picture it

so santa’s drinking a bottle of coke now porches bleed festive i’m not confused i am afraid of the weapon that i bear which i knew not that i bore until last night it dug into my side

i’m not confused my sequins scales caught in a fish net not confused not confused stubble scratching graph onto my neck i do not contemplate all that which i cannot forget you may find me under the heavy water oh disconcerting sweetness

Thursday, November 11, 2010

song against sex

And the last one tore a picture
from the pornographic page
and all the pleasure points attacking
all the looks of love were staged
and it's a lie that you've been given
that just hurts you every day
so why should I lie here naked
when it's just too far away
from anything we could call loving
any love worth living for
so I'll sleep out in the gutter
you can sleep here on the floor
and when I wake up in the morning
I won't forget to lock the door
'cos with a match that's mean and some gasoline
you wont see me any more
NMH

Thursday, November 4, 2010

where you'll find me now

listening to: on avery island, nmh.


i am so tired my muscles
limp and exhausted from giving birth to so many
stillborn

little hopes

i saw a broken belt i saw a hole in
the chain link just big enough for my
body i wanted to

climb right through

i guess i carry a satchel
of broken babies i guess i am too obvious
i smell like need

that's what they'd say

obvious like the bed behind the
fence made out of a lawn chair blankets
stained with wet mold which no one even

sleeps in now

this is not my home town this is not my
home this is not my home i cannot
smell the seaweed

i cannot smell the sea

where is my sea

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