This is Beginning to go inside-out with me
in the trenches, hunkered & harboring
that song I stole, in which you sang
about piling on the jaws, piling on
the womp, piling on the hand-shakes are
not meant for this fucking bed, my dear-long &
bricker-bracked ghetto: forgive me
for I am asleep, painting our Figures
in the Fur of an anti-stein, arises the
stench of shadows & the coughs which
surely tell of how we rot--------->through
play, through getting-it-on in the gravest
of, in a way, I’m entire—[ily] tiny
pussyplay in bed looking to slip that
fucking vintage fingerfucker my crotch
as I just lay here, wishing I was all up in a pooper, wishing
I was already yellowing between the teeth
& making you go down on my Heart
how I shaped this story that I had only
wished to end, wished to finally bank
out & step-on in a song that spoke of
our Brothers rotten moss or, the ice
in our cheeks, so numb so, as if coating
us to slip into a sleep of a cockwonder-------->if
I’ll ever align with the fire that’ll fucking
burn us all or, that great Horseshit all up
on us, bellowing down in a bag me & carry
me in your eyes like an SOS & forever
me—[?] I’ll continue on, stoning
all the fuckerfaces which’ll start with
my own Face, stoned & creeping
through me, up the chair, along your
thighs, under your skirt to shirt to
nestle under your Chin, for warmth, for
a broken diddy & in your eyes’ll reflect
me stroking you up & down as if, the bellow
of a ghetto & finally settle in *Arms here
I shut you down & sleeve you to
Face-----àa lonely grave, fingerpicked clean
before I fucking leave
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
This is the part, that harbors my
meanest most—[ily] my meaning is
found in my Grace in gazing against the
body of which, I bone an inch
beneath the bed where you own what
kills me, will be nothing perverse in
thee, I am entire—[ily] boobed in my
Sanctity purring out queefs in their
Rankity or, submerging my Body wholly
whole underwater, so not to build a
morbid form, but rather so
to gulp myself, as an Idea, holy as a
blackening out to a frothing forth so that
I fly, in-schpeel schlepping out the Body: that
is all I had ever imagined, was I, am no
longer growing from Thy look
out into the night & I see not a flicker
to instill me that I am still alive, still
rising in the inventive glow, tanked
in the center & in a sedentary pose I
gathered my Heads, so as a force to
mean, as in bitch I’m mean--------->ing to
down you, like the tenderist fist to
sicken-up the last I, wish to slam
the sicksickest of a every fucking man
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Now, we’ve reached the manly shore
you, are you the fumbling form in the
dark, I’m popping up the bend in my
voice creases in the increase crappy
concerto, was the one about the
lacy ankles & the body we found
around the corner, I’m back in love
incidentally made-out with myself
& my god-given butt was glorious
ill &exhausted by my own
Believe me I’m lazy & haunted by those
nuders that we once loved to recite the
cantos in Winter & the time, I introduced
you to the beauty of architecture as your
body, from my Hands, sailed right through
the fucking Window, forgive me, this was
in stereo & otherwise untouchable as
I’m said to move that bitch knocked against
my disturbed frame was so hard yet so tender
Was I, inside we should knock & just curdle
me: the glorious pigeon of nothing is to be
forgiven if you fail to wash my feathers emerge
from my arms will dumb you down when
embraced I’m unaware that during this time I,
exist to only love you weary, like the tail-end of an
Opera, in which I hook the mouths, glimmer
in my whimper limps to dream of the
thunderous occasion of my thingy in your
bed & how my actresses, shall reenact the
moment I fart you right out of the darkest
grin that’ll fatten us all in Sin
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Thus, this was my memory, in blind
faith, I note, our Home buried under
the water built the rage asunder, I’m reckoning
a fable in a fuck love dim, like your ass
is grass in a grave or in glass in fact, I need
to base my entire life on exhausting
the struggle & in exhaustion, force
each Chewing into a quote of your
voice------------->something to be
delivered or, a sentiment of the consequence
of constructing so many don’t
say such things will get better
not get, so sick & bored during
the night fits into this trajectory
of a shadow, is a welcoming to forever
I welcome you’re boring in the Heart of
things, I stomp at the place of your
birth is the point that I am chasing this
fucking City right out of---------->you dig this
dirge in place of my rage—[?] I’m reckoning
you are an instant figure without my
memories I am nothing but this fighting
against what stories itself into the grandest
fights are the love—[erly] faculties that are
born in the middle of an operating, crowds our
bodies to the Surface bursts what’choo got in them
eyes is your greatest disguise, your greatest
what’choo got fills me against the anti—
rise of these soft days filling-in the whywhywhys.
Why—[?] Baby this is’ll be the best it gets
