I Don't Suppose There Is Room Service

back on the bed
I feel like a roxy ruby

in my velvet movie

not sick
not partial

a tumble of the heart

a secret map without corners

a flower full of fire

ha, the hole in your ocean

nah, the star on my moon

when your fingers
glide across my skin
& I start to breathe diamonds

I pull from your eyes
a new expression

3x2 and later we'll go strolling

-swimming-

love-flesh. reckless curl. coconut lotion.

I'll be your ship
you'll sit on the deck
luminous & wet
and when the last wave
is over you'll lean
forward til our
eyelashes touch and
whisper -

the sigh
of a million
snowflakes

falling

We're Gonna Unzip Again

we're gonna unzip again
hook up to
uninterrupted fantasies

menacing cig
almost startled whisper
hideous chuckle

empty window curtained with rain drops

strong neck
fixed jaw

no. keep your hands down.
open your legs.
wider.

chalky arms
dissolving eyelashes

your astronaut face looks funny
glue under cellophane

the orgasm
a long crawling thing
pulling my body through warm
soft sand

a fluttering down
from nowhere to nowhere

loud of away

everything drowning

a penny for your thoughts

recovering orphan file

melba toast

no appetite. silicate feeling. double shots.
the occasional
small
stratospheric disturbance

impossible strangers

no hunter points his weapon at a dead carcass

Penelope, did you love Sheema?

you pathetic little junkie.

You Are Such A Toy

you are such a toy
such slime noir
a twisted elegant contradiction
I like the sound your powerless wounds make
the way you don't straddle us
into we. your disease rolled out
everyday
only to be ashtrayed in the garden
warm road butter
slick dyn O mite
the different black in your navel
cum encompassed
bloater corvert bobbing
guttural clicks
opening botticelli ish locks
fingers forever wetted
palm my brain
steal my muscle
throw them to the cosmic
nothing
synthetic grope dubbed
I kiss your hips
"folded, ephemeral arches"
love this shit, man!
throbbing slop spilling from the river's bottle
draining the have
of the real
I am a tide whisk
in your testicle chorus
another perfected
autonomous zone
where we drink doves
like beta glück-glam

Stop It, Smalls, You're Killin Me

Ather, a hub russet. Robotic Ema.

Euthachian dimples. Real hair

supporting nothing.

Crashing my armada into your ass.

My pandenic fever all over
your drunk touch.

Arbutus. Anisette. So divan.
Joy-sput with possible split
lip. Yours.

- - -

Prague. stupid spammers in the lobby.
Cold room, no balcony.

I'm glad we had this talk.

cockrings. Another sneeze. Holly as
an apostrophe. A decoy. A tiny system
that fits anywhere.

We walk and walk.

I want to fall in love with breakfast again.

Forget about it. What should we buy, beer?