down in me

nobody likes your posturing
i mean the way you sit down to write
distilling so-called
existential truths

no, more than that
everybody wants your funny
your siren song
a floppy hat to signal the way

you in the front, with your eyes open
you don’t know where you’re going
you’re going to get us killed
ah, fuck it

nobody wants to see the inside of your nose
with a flashlight
when you’ve been picking at it
with a penknife

nobody wants you to speak in absolutes
nobody likes the way you hang your head
everyone hates that you’re so this
we’re all ticking our boxes

The salt’s gone hard, in the cellar
Salt for one, too much salt for one
Once salt was expensive
And hard to come by
Wasn’t it? Salt?
Like spices
Like thick milk in glass bottles
But I don’t remember that
Myself
I’m dipping into
The saline consciousness
Of humanity

i let a stranger tongue my face
and ever since I feel like puking when I think
i let a stranger fondle my ass
on the outside of my little jean skirt
and ever since I feel like shitting my pants
i smell him like a wasp smells a bear
and my insides want to projectile through my nose
because when i say i let
i mean i invited
like in the movies, when you have to invite the vampire into your home
only it wasn’t a vampire
or a teenager
just a big man with a big boner
and me
with the perfect boner-shaped opening
overripe for the slaughter
and ever since i feel like dying when i think
or maybe living some more
i got his number in my phone
maybe i will call him
and listen to my ears bleed lubricant
let him fuck me, live inside me
while the walls melt
and in the morning
nothing happens
and i don’t smell him
while i continue charades
and i forget
how i was swollen
not with regret but with acceptance
how i was prodded
by a strange white cock
and inside my girl
there is nothing
and inside my woman
there is death
and inside
there is outside
and outside
there is nothing

All this and more
could be yours if
your wheelbarrow
wheels over my
pretty pretty toes.
Harmful if swallowed
particularly at night.
Hey. Hey? Hey
don’t bogart the
nachos, dude.
My urethra has
swollen to the girth
of three octopus
tentacles.
Large purple ones.
Clean, teen scene,
serene. Obstacled.
Tentacled. And a
little bitty shitty we’ll
call Billy, that spits
his sputum, spurts
his semen, strains
his sternum, into the
basin after dark.

not picking up anything
circling and not picking up anything
why is it that whenever there’s a word
that word is to give to you
as if I weren’t enough for flowers
now you have to have my buds

even if
her stories
are longer
than mine

And then I thought
spurious!
with forsaken ground
here, beneath
the island of Wales
what is that, she says
who is that
I love to follow them
to the deadest
of ends

I like vulvas which look
like they’re hiding something
folds that mock you

I like vulvas that smell
like rubber and honey sweat
labia that plump when you
tend to them

lying vulvas red be
like do not disturb me
 vulvae?

Ow stop that
Not like that
It’s hurting
So we stopped
One day
When we’re old
Honey remember when?
Honey will be
Dead but
His cocking dick
Knows what
It will tell all
The chicks
It’ll squabble
Over the feed
Peck their nipples
Bone sting
Bite sugar
Rock candy ‘til ill
I took two
The next day
I said
I’m going to
At least
Get high
Off my
Rapist boy
See you
Soon
She said
See you
In ICU
I took the
Biggest
Lollipop and
Left her
The gumball
22 issue
Number fives
And a
Pocket knife
Went to the
Nursery and
Said here
Take my
Baby girl
She’s sick
Sugar coma
Puking
All on me
Ow stop that
I bruise
Easy

Sour like vodkashits
Sop up the new blood stains with a wet towel
       slither back into bed flush with the DTs
Soft, the only clean pillow
Crushed to your trembling face restricting flow
The mighty hand of god himself pressing
       on the back of your head
Rock that 4 am regret, baby
Crossfade
       you're someone else, relax
                breathe sharp

I’m a swayable whore
side to side
I go vacillating
sidling up to sweet nothing
homeless cat
on rotting fish

Opportune and indiscreet
side to side
I go deviating
catching something
in the gutter
hoping something
catches me

She likes putting things between her lips
Like bottle caps and pen tops and cocks
But mostly smoke
Because sometimes breathing fresh and clear
is just too hard
She likes cupcakes and twizzlers and pussy juice
But mostly smoke
Because sometimes eraser heads on pencils
just taste like rubber sweat
She likes cigarettes and apple sauce and nails
But mostly skin
to munch on, while staring blankly
Like a baby that mistakes your elbow for a teething ring