gigondas

12/12/11

I want to write
and say
what I think
but

it seems
a greasy thumbprint
on a dirty mirror

all use
and self-indulgence

"...not like all this simpleminded telegraphic shit that passes for communication among you banal brats today."

it looks a little blurry in here...
oh look,
I'm holding a tequila.

are you serious?
you have kids,
and you never sleep!

why are you awake every night
clad in Christmas colors
like
that will keep you warm?

"When you're on hydrochodone and you're watching 'Sister-Wives,' it makes a lot of sense."

and that house
is where I first saw
leather bound tits
mixed
with blood and death
and realized
before
my first orgasm
how mixed together
death and sex
are
and it scared me
as much as it nailed me
as much as it
haunted me
for years
I folded
both memories
into recesses of my brain
hoping to forget
or for salvation

"it was a mixture of squee and sigh when I saw he had the screen name 'gapinganus'"

sometimes
the shuffle is random
and sometimes
it illumines
the architecture of my mind

'Who was the Lilith of abortions
Touching the hair of your children
with tiger-painted nails?"

my brain is tired
from meaningful words tumbling
amongst conversations with dead men

it needs
shits and giggles
not conversations about dead wives

it needs
a night
to lose the bends