The Sucker Doubt As Debt

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I doubted his intention the moment I saw him.

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Dark bar; various crowd; inherent horniness in the pants that spread out like a handshake to everyone around me.

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He said he was French and I took that baguette for a bite.

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Over two Tom Collins (his buy), we talked about the things we liked, always with a reference to each other. I liked the latest MoMA exhibit too. He liked my liking of a couple of bands also.

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We invested a little bit in each other. We stuck our dicks in the ATM and waited for the bank’s response.

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I always thought that sometimes a PIN-number works and sometimes it doesn’t. I have been lost in a strange neighborhood many a time only to find that my PIN was bunk.

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People could get arrested for what I might have done.

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I knew I had no cash, nothing really to offer, when the offer of a cab came around. I took the cab, the offer, the trip to another neighborhood I knew I would have a hell of a time getting back home from.

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Once at the place we were going to, I said a few words about something and then just started sucking. I kept at it until he moaned and wanted me to stroke his studded nipples – which I didn’t really care for in the first place – and tell me when I was going to come.

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I didn’t come. I felt I owed him something, but he had passed out right when I thought this and so I felt like leaving quietly would be the best way to keep myself from owing him anything, anything at all.

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DONKEY DICK

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PRECIPICE OF THE DAY

Trolling. Nincompoop banter blasted ----> Out.

The morning hand covered in wet

memories of dreams - - spanked and wandered

over to spank and

wonder.

__________To hold the sleepy sloppy penis in your

hand

as he pees ---- peeling back the thought of a singular

reason for being

sane

______and roasting like potatoes

for mourning.

________________Back in bed

and holding back another

stuck tear back

like a breather,

a thought:_____we will have this day.

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EYEHOLE

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HE broke the totem like a shard on the davenport. Whether or not that was what HE wanted is enough to broker all things to debt. Shapes continue to grow into other shapes and HE means that they tether together enough. The day exists so that HE can make meaning by being mean.

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Deep in the socket, there is a withering glance of desire that’s less the lingering desire of longing and more the acute desire of dismissal. HE spends time trussing the chicken; HE burns the garlic in the oven and it smells so sweet; HE bleeds his hand over the onions and washes it later in the sink.

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Deeper still, the hole gets filled and sucks up the trellis of all things seen, considered, cataloged, forgotten.

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DETERIORATED

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Sunk quack-cake meaning like

I meant to do that. _______Like

there was enough dough to make

it doughy enough to

bake into something

harder.

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Two bits in the bid to become bread.

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Q:__WHAT IS THE RIGHT WAY TO FORGET A WRONG-DOING?

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A: There aren’t enough filters available to give you optimal search results [see below].

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VERONICA LAKE

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She took me.

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DONKEY DICK

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Marie had a crisis in 1926. Trouble with tumors – the vestiges of

oration and cap and trade-offs enough to be welcomed on the mat.

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Piss journals of pissing in and out of the mouth of despair – like a

hold-out of the virginal dumbshit.

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Stick it in until it’s stuck and shake and ruttle and roll another joint –

___________this won’t hurt one bit, son.

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This is what it is.

This is what it is.

This is what it is

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and ain’t that a party?

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ain’t that just fun?

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