this is a serenade
to red high heels
pony ass

this is a serenade
to bruises and brokens
beatdown ass

D.H. Lawrence
rocking horse
queer and haunting like 1922
(you know you know)
opium ass

once upon a time
said an indigo stick
said a two-day moth
said a limp wristed cragg

this is a serenade and i haven’t been able to sleep and my armpits are sweaty and i smell like a woman like a woman like i never meant to smell all cunt and musk and underbreast wet and this is a serenade to cliff dives and muffdives and holiday hills
this is a serenade and i forgot where i began and my mind double tracks and loses tracks and never used to be like that and they’ll say one day they’ll say oh she’s smart as a whip (beatdown) she’s sharp as a tack well how’boutthat oh they will say that when i shake and applesauce drips from lips and the kids volunteer to take me for a walk (pony ass)
so i can’t help that all i think about is death queer and haunting like 1982 queer and haunting like naps when i should be living crying fucking dying blahblahblah

this is a two day moth
dusty and broken
heaving into the cracks in my hands
into lifelines
into palms
who cradled and curled
and stuffed and suckled
and all the other wonders of hands
and now
tattered wings disintegration
and dropping my eyelids in
i crush moth-pillow
all mine
rocking horse
all mine
distant memories
maladies and serenades
so thorax and exoskeleton
and quashed into lashes and hanging from my eyelids and amphibious tongue reaches (pony ass)
and all kohled up and sexy i’m ready to greet the world
i’m ready to meet my maker
i’m ready
(beatdown)

    obey whisk  
    repeat  
    fly kiss fly  
    treat to one risk  
    repeat   
    mutual morality violated violated    
    instigated  
    defecate  
            “sir”  
            “i was just following orders”  
            “innocent”  
            “following”

    victim/learner/accountant  
    same/same/same  
    a confederacy of lunatics  
    torturers/oddities/cruelisms  
    and you

    15 volts  
        (and you drip)  
    135 volts  
        (and you shimmer and heave)

1. Please continue.
   
2. The trash requires that you continue.
   
3. It is absolutely essential that you continue.
   

4. You have no other choice, you must go on.
   

       “shhh”  
       “sir?”  
       “shhh”
   
   450 volts  
       (and you splay)  
   obedient  
       (and you splay)
   

your fist fell on me
and the moon fell out of the sky
and my shoulders are scraping the clouds raw
so i am extracting details of my life from

cardboard boxes
and my shoulders
broken shoulders
look better in the cracked mirror of my old friend’s pick up truck
than they ever did riding you
and it’s not so much black and blue
as it is gold and green
jewels and ruddy violets
of you
on me
to where i really wonder
am i pretty
enhanced by the spectrum
not grey
everyday
everyday
all grey
but lively like
fighting and fucking up
and making up
and fucking
and making out
and i am fucking out of here

like arms thrown back
surrendering to the drop
the wind of the rollercoaster’s climax
and here we go
and i’m outta here

and then you lift me up again
cradled
up
up
shoulders scraping heaven
shoulders reflected black at me
from the mirror
in the back of the truck

one road atlas
and freedom and a map of here
9:30: across my cheek
9:58: “you fucking asshole” landing on my spine
10:02, 10:03, 10:04: rib, pelvis, knee, head
moments etched across my skin
ride me
landscape of tuesday two weeks ago
and last thursday
and last night
til it’s morning sunshine
two coffees
hands of friends
soft horizon
cardboard truck
full of socks, hair ties, love letter, photos
notebooks screaming “why”
and the poster that hung over the hole in the wall

leaving you
details distracted
no moon in the sky
one hole in the wall
no me
in the fridge, in the shower, in the laundry bag
just hairs on your pillow

10:06, 10:07, 10:08: making up and getting out

now i’m getting out
shoulders scraping
the thick pink sky
swollen memories
not quite black and blue
just you

Written on a wall (by anonymous):

to
destroy
all girls
less
they destroy
man’s
ambition
&
art…
Just ask
any 9to5er?

My (written) response:
to destroy all girls less they destroy man’s ambition and art…
just ask any 9to5er…
i say hiding a fart
this is the tune of the beer guzzling
gas guzzling
SUV owners
don’t let them destroy you
don’t let them destroy you
(ou)r planet what is the threat?
the girl graciously asked
(she could have kicked in the face or fucked him an ran)
she could have used his scrotum skin as pot holders
when making her best meat loaf
she could have used his meat as a recipe for his destruction
but instead
instead
she just simply asked
That’s threat enough
he snortled and snarled
ambition and art is all i have left since you have obviously more
beauty depth knowledge power compassion truth spirit savagery strength babies
oh…then the art and ambition are all yours
(the girl grinned) what good is ambition if you can’t ever achieve??
(Just ask any 9 to 5’er).