Two doors, five fingers, and a hand to shake when you’re lonely.
He spends dollars calling home to tell those he says he loves he loves them.
A principle point: I don’t miss you at all.
We’re falling all over ourselves so much, we’re bags of it, bound to boxes like something only to sell.
And we keep our doors open, just in case.
I’m fine, you’re fine, I’m fine, you’re fine, I’m fine, you’re fine, I’m fine, you’re fine, I’m fine, you’re fine I’m fine, you’re fine, I’m fine, you’re fine, I’m fine, you’re fine, I’m fine, you’re fine, I’m fine, you’re fine I’m fine, you’re fine, I’m fine, you’re fine, I’m fine, you’re fine, I’m fine, you’re fine, I’m fine, you’re fine I’m fine, you’re fine, I’m fine, you’re fine, I’m fine, you’re fine, I’m fine, you’re fine, I’m fine, you’re fine I’m fine, you’re fine, I’m fine, you’re fine, I’m fine, you’re fine, I’m fine, you’re fine, I’m fine, you’re fine I’m fine, you’re fine, I’m fine, you’re fine, I’m fine, you’re fine, I’m fine, you’re fine, I’m fine, you’re fine I’m fine, you’re fine, I’m fine, you’re fine, I’m fine, you’re fine, I’m fine, you’re fine, I’m fine, you’re fine I’m fine, you’re fine, I’m fine, you’re fine, I’m fine, you’re fine, I’m fine, you’re fine, I’m fine, you’re fine you’re fine you’re fine you’re fine you’re fine you’re fine you’re fine you’re fine you’re bread.
Just remember, we’re mobile.
I remember a two-bit heart like a skid line across a road with other lines elsewhere but lines all the same.
We’re all made of lines and lines to lines and lines to lines to lines so much we’re lost we’re so many lines.
We’re only wanting to be bushes, brushed.
And curves, like distant mountain tops we call dad.
The pictures we paint in front of the front we can’t stand to see, we’re so tired of imagination being just in our minds and bleed our sounds in dreams like we were looking at them all the same, only dreaming and waking and waking and pissing along the remains of a last night together so we piss a mountain in place of a clouding in place of a place we only dream of being
only with the messages blanked out, we know them so well by now.
A light we only thought we knew.
A lesser splash, an abortion.
On rainy days I like to think that there are people who are swimming, in water bigger than mine.
And I like to think they do not drown.
Krptzik, ghnormal bihinmnal platzfux.
Jixz lampoph jurryik kin tzakel.
And a glass of milk, please.
This was the whale my mother warned me about.
With feet up I watch porn.
I watch fake fraternity boys do each other violently and uncross my legs enough to let my balls breathe enough for me to grab them, choke them to death.
I come on my t-shirt laid across my chest and lay there for ten minutes with my eyes closed, listening to more dirty talk from the fake boys.
There is nothing in the suitcase. Nothing at all.
I remember going to my grandparent’s house on the Oregon coast.
I remember driving by a place called “Little Black Sambo’s”.
They served pancakes.
I remember grandma reading me a book by the same name. The tigers in the story turned to butter, and they made pancakes, so pancakes made sense to me.
I remember going to my grandparent’s house on the Oregon coast.
I remember driving by a place called “Sambo’s”.
They served pancakes.
I remember my grandma reading me a book called “Little Black Sambo”. The tigers in the story turned to butter, and they made pancakes, so pancakes sort of made sense.
I remember going to my grandparent’s house on the Oregon coast.
I remember driving by a place called “Denny’s”.
They served pancakes.
