red skies by night
sailors delight
red skies come morn
sailors be warned
Tuesday, March 30, 2010
taipei cafe
the cat was crouching on the italian coffee maker
staying warm
he glides to and fro the coffee cups
the giant stuffed animal boars
and the heartbroken
if only he could talk
imagine the stories he would mew out
but then again
he would be to proud to say anything to any of us
so apparently
a charlie brown is espresso with hot chocolate
my body shakes and quivers from caffeine but i love it anyway
i curl into a sofa seat and sip and soak in the music
and i see the owner of the coffee shop for the first time
time has etched deep lines into her proud face
she dangles a cigarette and cocks an eyebrow at me
she knows i'm looking
fuck the law
she lights it and inhales
taipei NTU
there is something about the way people ride bikes in NTU
all orderly
the people reminded her of schools of fish
all moving and going towards the same unknown
in clumps
people had to move in clumps
to laugh and scream and shout out crazy shit
wear a preoccupied mask if your alone
act like you have somewhere to go
or something to do
------------------
tell me about NTU
its five hundred billion bucks dumped in to feed a shitload of crazy people
she wears purple stalkings
moulin rouge style with the lace on top showing
spends hours trying to make her tiny breasts pop
posts pictures of herself licking foot long ice cream cones
as if guys in taiwan had foot long dicks
---------------
we are programed to shout when people shout
clap when people clap
NTU just wants to be the first
Monday, March 29, 2010
"jumping off buildings is alot like this"
she said...
she threw a pair of shoes into the sunlight
they caught on a telephone wire,
sending a wriggly wave throught the line
he squinted to the point of bearing teeth
as he tried watching them dance on the line
in and out of bright white light
so early
already hot
"when you see a child jump from a fence,
or a high ledge
theres always that one
who kinda inches off the ledge
thats the one...
keep your eye on that one."
we piled into her van and smoked hash from a coke can
----
already, coming from the big hotels up near the pier
was the morning smell of eggs, french toast, those big hotels
in the early summer heat, just coming hours after the sunrise
on the eve before tourist season
blowing towards venice
mara vista
towards the homes of those cooking
for tourists
she said...
she threw a pair of shoes into the sunlight
they caught on a telephone wire,
sending a wriggly wave throught the line
he squinted to the point of bearing teeth
as he tried watching them dance on the line
in and out of bright white light
so early
already hot
"when you see a child jump from a fence,
or a high ledge
theres always that one
who kinda inches off the ledge
thats the one...
keep your eye on that one."
we piled into her van and smoked hash from a coke can
----
already, coming from the big hotels up near the pier
was the morning smell of eggs, french toast, those big hotels
in the early summer heat, just coming hours after the sunrise
on the eve before tourist season
blowing towards venice
mara vista
towards the homes of those cooking
for tourists
she remembers his smile
it streamed like sunlight
or maybe it was his eyes
they smiled when he smiled
he lent her dickinson
she didn't really understand her
but she loved they way the words flowed out of her mouth
musical
he lent her chang
and she read about opium smoking, long nails, shrill laughs, mahjong playing women
marriage for family
for pride
for a war
just never love
do you think she's my bacteria?
he asked
honey, she's your bacteria and the cure
Sunday, March 28, 2010
she started staring at the moon after tom robbins
the first time she looked at her, really looked
luna was a thin smile
penciled onto the sky
a bow moon
lately the moon looks like she's dipped in clouds
oreos in milk style
just right for cows to bat their lashes and dance
under the cookie moon
she wants to dance the way cows and bulls would dance
under the moon
twirling and swirling
tails flying in the air
eyes contently closed
cowbells chiming a rhythm of their own
its a marvelous night for a moondance
the first time she looked at her, really looked
luna was a thin smile
penciled onto the sky
a bow moon
lately the moon looks like she's dipped in clouds
oreos in milk style
just right for cows to bat their lashes and dance
under the cookie moon
she wants to dance the way cows and bulls would dance
under the moon
twirling and swirling
tails flying in the air
eyes contently closed
cowbells chiming a rhythm of their own
its a marvelous night for a moondance
Friday, March 26, 2010
Wednesday, March 24, 2010
he knew what he had to do
he turned her towards the wall
he felt her low and close
the weight in his hands, the gentle
way in which her light weight draped in his shoulders
she was going to make a sound, buzzed with a hum of feedback
feedback that like love lives only once
like a war siren it takes over the room
and i let her go, i let her howl
and the room vibrates with us
in us
"you go into a trance you know
that wasnt you"
ken is telling me what i do now
that the me standing outside the studio
listening
is not the same person against the wall
ken fucking erased that track
accidentaly
and now he wants me to recreate it
whoever that was, hes gone
"no ken
I cant do it again
not like that
its lost"
now against the wall again
back to the world
the dark brown wall inches from your face
the music kicks up
the volume is at 10
the feedback begins its building hum, shes alive
you hold the pick above the strings
this is going to hurt you, you tell her
the electric guitar is built like a pillar of smoke
of fire, it cries and weeps, but here,
these hands are gonna devour her
biting, chipped tooth and ripped clothing
the smoke fills my head and i leave
again
someone else is playing now
he turned her towards the wall
he felt her low and close
the weight in his hands, the gentle
way in which her light weight draped in his shoulders
she was going to make a sound, buzzed with a hum of feedback
feedback that like love lives only once
like a war siren it takes over the room
and i let her go, i let her howl
and the room vibrates with us
in us
"you go into a trance you know
that wasnt you"
ken is telling me what i do now
that the me standing outside the studio
listening
is not the same person against the wall
ken fucking erased that track
accidentaly
and now he wants me to recreate it
whoever that was, hes gone
"no ken
I cant do it again
not like that
its lost"
now against the wall again
back to the world
the dark brown wall inches from your face
the music kicks up
the volume is at 10
the feedback begins its building hum, shes alive
you hold the pick above the strings
this is going to hurt you, you tell her
the electric guitar is built like a pillar of smoke
of fire, it cries and weeps, but here,
these hands are gonna devour her
biting, chipped tooth and ripped clothing
the smoke fills my head and i leave
again
someone else is playing now
Tuesday, March 23, 2010
He smoked mild sevens, a pack a day. He held his cigarette like a bad habit he's learned to love.
She remembers asking him, once, why he smoked.
It was cool, he replied. It was cool to be eighteen and listening to Motley Crue and smoking, drinking, too. He added as an afterthought.
Cool my ass, he snorted and took another deep drag of his mild seven.
He listened to rock music. And yet, she felt he didn't understand. He knew all the facts and the bands and the names of the singers. He had the skeleton of rock nailed down, just couldn't bleed rock if his life depended on it.
That was his problem.
his I love yous, his phone calls, walking with him down the street, all of that were just the skeleton. He lacked the blood.
He couldn't bleed.
She remembers asking him, once, why he smoked.
It was cool, he replied. It was cool to be eighteen and listening to Motley Crue and smoking, drinking, too. He added as an afterthought.
Cool my ass, he snorted and took another deep drag of his mild seven.
He listened to rock music. And yet, she felt he didn't understand. He knew all the facts and the bands and the names of the singers. He had the skeleton of rock nailed down, just couldn't bleed rock if his life depended on it.
That was his problem.
his I love yous, his phone calls, walking with him down the street, all of that were just the skeleton. He lacked the blood.
He couldn't bleed.
Monday, March 22, 2010
going native
the model:
long bleached hair, smokey eyes, heels
she is talking loudly, laughing loudly
an extrovert to the fullest
she loves being looked at
she loves being assured
i'm too dark... i look green
while tilting her head just so so the sunlight highlights her face
i'm too fat
while tucking into her chocolate cake and sugary tea
my lids were cut... can you tell
(she blinks at him letting him take a closer look)
snap
the photographer:
overweight, glasses, oily hair
trained from years of nights clicking through albums of dolled up posers
he knows their moves
knows what girls six years younger than him want
knows what they want him to think they think about love
knows what they truly think about love
ahh...
love
always the conversation starter
they open a magazine (japanese)
start commenting on
the furniture
the tiles
the flowers
the girls
(were just another object in the frame
a puzzle piece that happened to have breasts hair and makeup)
"like this!! i want to look like this!! sehxy but not slutty" (loud, taiwanese english)
he just laughs
"anything's possible"
translation:
"dream on honey"
they leave and i can finally hear that the coffee shop is playing i'm all out of love
----------
they both pull out their playstations
short hair, glasses, ignoring their food
eyes locked, hands clutching the game machine, thumbs moving with a fluidity aquired from hours of practice
he's eight
he's twenty eight
long bleached hair, smokey eyes, heels
she is talking loudly, laughing loudly
an extrovert to the fullest
she loves being looked at
she loves being assured
i'm too dark... i look green
while tilting her head just so so the sunlight highlights her face
i'm too fat
while tucking into her chocolate cake and sugary tea
my lids were cut... can you tell
(she blinks at him letting him take a closer look)
snap
the photographer:
overweight, glasses, oily hair
trained from years of nights clicking through albums of dolled up posers
he knows their moves
knows what girls six years younger than him want
knows what they want him to think they think about love
knows what they truly think about love
ahh...
love
always the conversation starter
they open a magazine (japanese)
start commenting on
the furniture
the tiles
the flowers
the girls
(were just another object in the frame
a puzzle piece that happened to have breasts hair and makeup)
"like this!! i want to look like this!! sehxy but not slutty" (loud, taiwanese english)
he just laughs
"anything's possible"
translation:
"dream on honey"
they leave and i can finally hear that the coffee shop is playing i'm all out of love
----------
they both pull out their playstations
short hair, glasses, ignoring their food
eyes locked, hands clutching the game machine, thumbs moving with a fluidity aquired from hours of practice
he's eight
he's twenty eight
Saturday, March 20, 2010
the night sessions:
the waiting pose, so far so gone in character
the watches havent come off, and the woman in
the back talks loud with a horrible laugh
black eyes shaped in cat like shadow,the mouth that cries
the blinding light, the echo of the louder speaker, horrible mauve
---------
i like the way you kick for the ribs
like broken eves
you see them shatter before their born
into what?
into what?
---------------
but then again
there is the sound of bob dylan
the sound of the keys being lit up
getting something right
today the scene at the coffee table
surrounded by home schooled poker players
you and paula
jesus
did you need to slam the drink down?
you looked like an asshole
getting something right
-------------
there is red wine from coffee mugs
there is the most rediculous looking drugs on my spanish desk
there is the sound of a throated mean guitar and a cow bell
coming through the neighbors radio
me too
me too
im gonna stay up late
up late
kelly says the wine ain't great
the waiting pose, so far so gone in character
the watches havent come off, and the woman in
the back talks loud with a horrible laugh
black eyes shaped in cat like shadow,the mouth that cries
the blinding light, the echo of the louder speaker, horrible mauve
---------
i like the way you kick for the ribs
like broken eves
you see them shatter before their born
into what?
into what?
---------------
but then again
there is the sound of bob dylan
the sound of the keys being lit up
getting something right
today the scene at the coffee table
surrounded by home schooled poker players
you and paula
jesus
did you need to slam the drink down?
you looked like an asshole
getting something right
-------------
there is red wine from coffee mugs
there is the most rediculous looking drugs on my spanish desk
there is the sound of a throated mean guitar and a cow bell
coming through the neighbors radio
me too
me too
im gonna stay up late
up late
kelly says the wine ain't great
Friday, March 19, 2010
Note to self
read eileen chang
your chinese after all
listen to angry music
make it rock
avoid wallowy taiwanese pop
enough of the crooning lyrics of betrayal
play with your food
even if your friend is looking at you in disbelief
walk into random coffee shops
don't go in if they sell italian food
remember to bring your notebook
stop writing on napkins
baby carrots have invaded taiwan
take advantage of that
ps.
remember to eat breakfast
read eileen chang
your chinese after all
listen to angry music
make it rock
avoid wallowy taiwanese pop
enough of the crooning lyrics of betrayal
play with your food
even if your friend is looking at you in disbelief
walk into random coffee shops
don't go in if they sell italian food
remember to bring your notebook
stop writing on napkins
baby carrots have invaded taiwan
take advantage of that
ps.
remember to eat breakfast
Thursday, March 18, 2010
the cherry blossoms were already sprouting green leaves amidst their cumulus cloud pinkness
all the tourists
the lovers
the union groups
the students
people posing
different people
the louis vuitton carrying ladies with the upturned dark purplish red brown hair
the men dangling cigarettes
the shorts and converse clad girls with straight hair and smoky eyes
the guys with jeans and keys jingling in their pockets
all the same poses
all the same side stance
an open fifth position
smiling the same 30 degrees
hands behind their backs
lovers touching secretly
all backs turned to the cherry blossoms
blooming a thunderstorm
all the tourists
the lovers
the union groups
the students
people posing
different people
the louis vuitton carrying ladies with the upturned dark purplish red brown hair
the men dangling cigarettes
the shorts and converse clad girls with straight hair and smoky eyes
the guys with jeans and keys jingling in their pockets
all the same poses
all the same side stance
an open fifth position
smiling the same 30 degrees
hands behind their backs
lovers touching secretly
all backs turned to the cherry blossoms
blooming a thunderstorm
Wednesday, March 17, 2010
lilith
walking back to his car from the sand
the sun was just beginning to exhale the morning
walking back from the ocean
he saw a black van parked next to his car
it had a red strip that ran up the length of it
just like the A TEAM van
but there are other things painted on the sides of the van
there were large air brushed hedonistic she devils
with tails and betty page hair straddling the sides of this van
all mighty brimstone backgrounds
of fire falling from the sky
as she lookes at you with green eyes,
this one holds a whip
and has skull medallions on her stilletto heels
like steal rosed faces of death above her toes
the end of the world was on the side of her van
she looked like she nearly lived out of it
that van
scattered clothing
strange gypsy cloth covering the ceiling
and silver water bowels for baby sheppard dogs
he saw a girl with sleave tattoos
and short black hair
there was a surfboard leaning against the van on the other side
and she was sliding into a wet suit
he got in the car
opened the windows
and told her he liked the van
"It reminds me of the Coop, his devils," he said
she liked that he knew Coop
He started the car and said goodbye
she said goodbye
she had a British accent
as he drove away
he looked at her van once more
driving out of the parking lot
he caught a look at the front of the van
the front of the van
the front of her van had the word "Wicked"
painted in red horror letter across the front
he stopped the car
and walked towards her
the sun was just beginning to exhale the morning
walking back from the ocean
he saw a black van parked next to his car
it had a red strip that ran up the length of it
just like the A TEAM van
but there are other things painted on the sides of the van
there were large air brushed hedonistic she devils
with tails and betty page hair straddling the sides of this van
all mighty brimstone backgrounds
of fire falling from the sky
as she lookes at you with green eyes,
this one holds a whip
and has skull medallions on her stilletto heels
like steal rosed faces of death above her toes
the end of the world was on the side of her van
she looked like she nearly lived out of it
that van
scattered clothing
strange gypsy cloth covering the ceiling
and silver water bowels for baby sheppard dogs
he saw a girl with sleave tattoos
and short black hair
there was a surfboard leaning against the van on the other side
and she was sliding into a wet suit
he got in the car
opened the windows
and told her he liked the van
"It reminds me of the Coop, his devils," he said
she liked that he knew Coop
He started the car and said goodbye
she said goodbye
she had a British accent
as he drove away
he looked at her van once more
driving out of the parking lot
he caught a look at the front of the van
the front of the van
the front of her van had the word "Wicked"
painted in red horror letter across the front
he stopped the car
and walked towards her
how absurdly wonderful
the dance of the seven veils
she wishes she could see it
experience it
have her hair fizzed and mind blown
become an artist
create what's beautiful
write whats true
she is suddenly at peace after going to buddha
maybe its just temporary
maybe its true
at least she stops looking at the phone
feeling a twist in her stomach whenever there is nothing
its good to feel free
she believes what she needs to
the dance of the seven veils
she wishes she could see it
experience it
have her hair fizzed and mind blown
become an artist
create what's beautiful
write whats true
she is suddenly at peace after going to buddha
maybe its just temporary
maybe its true
at least she stops looking at the phone
feeling a twist in her stomach whenever there is nothing
its good to feel free
she believes what she needs to
Tuesday, March 16, 2010
he asked his professor
the one who speaks 4 languages
two of which so ancient their dead except for a few scholars
"im on vacation...give me a book that will teach me to be patient with women"
"I dont know of any such book"
sigh
the student knows literature isnt good for this
nothing ever turns out good for the person shot with the arrow
he wonders
if she is angry
angry at taiwan
for making her leave
had he left in the middle of the night
she wouldnt have obsessed over him
she would have conquered
she needs to conquere and
say fuck you to an island
that tried to can her
something was taken from her
and she wants it back
she wants the last laugh at a island that
tried to can her into power point presentations
and web camera lifelessness
she wants to fall in love
and she thinks this is complete bullocks
and he smiles
and he wonders
what fresh hell is this?
maybe she has friends for him
maybe she doesnt
she just texted
"holding up?"
what fresh hell is this?
he call her and she has the stomach flu from staying up
last night writing poetry until 4 in the morning
another night
another morning
he loves her and this is all making it only more so
because she is nothing but a friend
when there is talk of a great return
on motorcycles and well scenic paradises of ocean
there is talk of mexico
a new tattoo
or maybe just have the mother on your arm renewed
have the reds more red
have the purple bleeding heart be heart
be bleeding
be the best part of your soul to her
give her honesty and truth
in sea of daggers laced in blood orange sweetness
obscurity
be the best part to her
when she needs you
and have the patience to let her know
when that it is
you have just finished saying
what your professor never could
he never knew this
the one who speaks 4 languages
two of which so ancient their dead except for a few scholars
"im on vacation...give me a book that will teach me to be patient with women"
"I dont know of any such book"
sigh
the student knows literature isnt good for this
nothing ever turns out good for the person shot with the arrow
he wonders
if she is angry
angry at taiwan
for making her leave
had he left in the middle of the night
she wouldnt have obsessed over him
she would have conquered
she needs to conquere and
say fuck you to an island
that tried to can her
something was taken from her
and she wants it back
she wants the last laugh at a island that
tried to can her into power point presentations
and web camera lifelessness
she wants to fall in love
and she thinks this is complete bullocks
and he smiles
and he wonders
what fresh hell is this?
maybe she has friends for him
maybe she doesnt
she just texted
"holding up?"
what fresh hell is this?
he call her and she has the stomach flu from staying up
last night writing poetry until 4 in the morning
another night
another morning
he loves her and this is all making it only more so
because she is nothing but a friend
when there is talk of a great return
on motorcycles and well scenic paradises of ocean
there is talk of mexico
a new tattoo
or maybe just have the mother on your arm renewed
have the reds more red
have the purple bleeding heart be heart
be bleeding
be the best part of your soul to her
give her honesty and truth
in sea of daggers laced in blood orange sweetness
obscurity
be the best part to her
when she needs you
and have the patience to let her know
when that it is
you have just finished saying
what your professor never could
he never knew this
she kneeled down on the cushioned temple
it was all very zen
the sort of no nonsense temple that didn't do elaborate drawings and angry door spirits
everything was wooden and discreet
even the incense didn't burn off a musty stinging smell
the buddha had knowing look
eyes closed with a mid smile
the "i'm listening" look
she wondered how scientifically this could work
throwing wooden moons for answers
it was all very zen
the sort of no nonsense temple that didn't do elaborate drawings and angry door spirits
everything was wooden and discreet
even the incense didn't burn off a musty stinging smell
the buddha had knowing look
eyes closed with a mid smile
the "i'm listening" look
she wondered how scientifically this could work
throwing wooden moons for answers
Saturday, March 13, 2010
she's started smoking
if only mama knew
every time she lights a cigarette she remembers the look on mama's face when she walked into the apartment
her nose wrinkling and detecting for smoke
"jenny
i think someone's smoking
don't rent this place dear its awful"
dear mama...
she likes the smell that lingers on her fingers
and flicking the ash off
its a practiced move
and
she's started smoking because of him
she wants to steal his smell
so she walks around like a demented perfumist
if only mama knew
every time she lights a cigarette she remembers the look on mama's face when she walked into the apartment
her nose wrinkling and detecting for smoke
"jenny
i think someone's smoking
don't rent this place dear its awful"
dear mama...
she likes the smell that lingers on her fingers
and flicking the ash off
its a practiced move
and
she's started smoking because of him
she wants to steal his smell
so she walks around like a demented perfumist
Sunday, March 7, 2010
i want
I want my PhD
I want to be invited to the middle east to disappear into texts for a month
while dining with friends in the late afternoon, when the old city sunlight hits the wailing wall, when mosque sirens beckon the faith full, and friends pour wine over plates of figs, cheese and Palestinian olives from 1000 year old trees
I want to see jesus in hawaii this summer, early, and I want to see old friend of the tireless muse in tainan, late
I want to help ken build the hot tub in the backyard (already in progress)
I want to send my love in packages (already in progress)
I want to take a position in a small town
no one was written to death already
Salem
Portland
a place that has small town characters and strange festivals
involving harvests like a
"squash festival"
"pumpkin throwing contests"
I want someone who can keep me alive
and going in a world that is seemingly at
times hell bent on doing otherwise,
I want someone who inspires me at my darkest hour
I want to inspire in the darkest hour
I want to take long sabbaticals from work
I want Italy to want me
I want to see some asshole get what he deserves,
even when that asshole is me
I want others to see in them, what I see in them
I hope i convey just how little of anything is impossible
I don't want to justify my ego, "whether I'm a man, or not man,"
according to how many women I've conquered,
or conquered lately
cuss that's what that is
hanging women like stuffed animals above
a roaring fire, thinking Im hemmingway,
unless women want to be stuffed above the fireplace
im against noncensual stuffing
I want to continue looking at sports for what they really are...
men, like dogs, will chase a ball...
but different than dogs, we play baseball...
we kill ourselves over balls to prove we have them
we dive into crowds,
we run into walls,
just so we can catch...a ball...
dogs never do this
I want dogs
a pack of them
I want Irish wolf hounds
and an old old jeep Cherokee
with wood paneling on the sides
I want a woman who will love/hates the smell of that car
I want to see Jon cook in a funny hat
and then it would seem,
with all the years this may seem to occupy,
some vast, some now
I would be happy enough just to
stay here with you
listening to wind
being interupted by text messages
and looking at the sand at the bottom
of an ancient yellow bathtub
I want to be invited to the middle east to disappear into texts for a month
while dining with friends in the late afternoon, when the old city sunlight hits the wailing wall, when mosque sirens beckon the faith full, and friends pour wine over plates of figs, cheese and Palestinian olives from 1000 year old trees
I want to see jesus in hawaii this summer, early, and I want to see old friend of the tireless muse in tainan, late
I want to help ken build the hot tub in the backyard (already in progress)
I want to send my love in packages (already in progress)
I want to take a position in a small town
no one was written to death already
Salem
Portland
a place that has small town characters and strange festivals
involving harvests like a
"squash festival"
"pumpkin throwing contests"
I want someone who can keep me alive
and going in a world that is seemingly at
times hell bent on doing otherwise,
I want someone who inspires me at my darkest hour
I want to inspire in the darkest hour
I want to take long sabbaticals from work
I want Italy to want me
I want to see some asshole get what he deserves,
even when that asshole is me
I want others to see in them, what I see in them
I hope i convey just how little of anything is impossible
I don't want to justify my ego, "whether I'm a man, or not man,"
according to how many women I've conquered,
or conquered lately
cuss that's what that is
hanging women like stuffed animals above
a roaring fire, thinking Im hemmingway,
unless women want to be stuffed above the fireplace
im against noncensual stuffing
I want to continue looking at sports for what they really are...
men, like dogs, will chase a ball...
but different than dogs, we play baseball...
we kill ourselves over balls to prove we have them
we dive into crowds,
we run into walls,
just so we can catch...a ball...
dogs never do this
I want dogs
a pack of them
I want Irish wolf hounds
and an old old jeep Cherokee
with wood paneling on the sides
I want a woman who will love/hates the smell of that car
I want to see Jon cook in a funny hat
and then it would seem,
with all the years this may seem to occupy,
some vast, some now
I would be happy enough just to
stay here with you
listening to wind
being interupted by text messages
and looking at the sand at the bottom
of an ancient yellow bathtub
Thursday, March 4, 2010
the last memory she had was of the two whisky bottles
one unopened
the other only half gone
and a thought of how she knew she wasn't gonna get laid tonight
she didn't start throwing up until later
throwing everything up
losing all sense
and then tottering down the pavement and shouting out
"I wanna FUCK"
"I WANNA FUUUCK"
with all her anger
and with
all her lust
one unopened
the other only half gone
and a thought of how she knew she wasn't gonna get laid tonight
she didn't start throwing up until later
throwing everything up
losing all sense
and then tottering down the pavement and shouting out
"I wanna FUCK"
"I WANNA FUUUCK"
with all her anger
and with
all her lust
it wasn't the fucking that got her
well, maybe that had bits to do with it.
a chinese writer once wrote that
the way to a man's heart is through his stomach
the way to a woman's heart is through her pussy
she laid on the floor, wondering whether he was leaving or not
wasn't he supposed to be leaving?
he got up
lit the candles with his lighter
and started folding the sheets
she sat up and looked at him
just looked
and drunk him in
"smile"
the smile came out before she realized she was smiling
for him
well, maybe that had bits to do with it.
a chinese writer once wrote that
the way to a man's heart is through his stomach
the way to a woman's heart is through her pussy
she laid on the floor, wondering whether he was leaving or not
wasn't he supposed to be leaving?
he got up
lit the candles with his lighter
and started folding the sheets
she sat up and looked at him
just looked
and drunk him in
"smile"
the smile came out before she realized she was smiling
for him
Wednesday, March 3, 2010
dehydrated claws
"doesn't she know what your doing...I mean...this whole devil thing...
this is for actors not writers"
you couldnt see her body in the slip
it wasn't to be had
she disappears in designer clothing
and she had just returned from italy
so I answered in Italian
"the devil is an actor"
she took off the slip and there they were
i knew she had small nipples
but these, they had nothing to suggest she could ever be a mother
it was my first erection in nearly a month
the sight of these small, little things
yet how they met her body as such
she was beautiful with the slip off
she needed to be completly unclothed to be beautiful
she used to sleep naked next to her window she told me
aware anything could grab her in echo park
she lived in a bad area
I reminded her it was santa monica
nothing is going to grab you
she told me about her mother
how she would go home for visits
and see her mother watching television
with her pants around her ankles
how she never knew her father
only that he liked to jog early in the morning
along the polluted LA river
I told her she looked better without the slip
and I saw how she reacted
"come here then...She doesnt know you want her to find someone else?
Anything but you? She doest know you want her to write?"
I pulled her ankle close to my mouth
and told her to shut the fuck up
"Why are your wrists bandaged?"
she asked over dinner
"Im not sure yet," I said
After we fucked, she told me about mexico
how she drove there with her boyfriend who was wanted by the police for murder
he was scared
they bought chicken claws and wore them around their knecks
driving in her beat up mercedes
she told me the chicken claws accidently got wet
from sweat while they fucked in the back seat of the mercedes
that the claws swelled up and started to smell, like dead flesh
swollen claws rehydrated
"Why do you have womens clothing in your closet."
"Im not sure."
"Is there anything you...ohhhh...ohhhh..ohhhh..."
I woke up and saw the reminents of life
she got him to talk about his father the night before
and if he was him, he thought...
I've lived 75% of my life already
"I will kill myself when my mother dies"
she says
An hour later alone
I'm on the computer
when the text comes
"xoxooxox hugs and kisses from the bright darkness, cassaro."
"how'd a beautiful thing like you get kicked around so much?" I wrote
:) Im tough, just writing papers all weekend. Can't wait till that's over. My week will be more lax. U gonna be around?"
"Im the morning light you know, I will be around."
this is for actors not writers"
you couldnt see her body in the slip
it wasn't to be had
she disappears in designer clothing
and she had just returned from italy
so I answered in Italian
"the devil is an actor"
she took off the slip and there they were
i knew she had small nipples
but these, they had nothing to suggest she could ever be a mother
it was my first erection in nearly a month
the sight of these small, little things
yet how they met her body as such
she was beautiful with the slip off
she needed to be completly unclothed to be beautiful
she used to sleep naked next to her window she told me
aware anything could grab her in echo park
she lived in a bad area
I reminded her it was santa monica
nothing is going to grab you
she told me about her mother
how she would go home for visits
and see her mother watching television
with her pants around her ankles
how she never knew her father
only that he liked to jog early in the morning
along the polluted LA river
I told her she looked better without the slip
and I saw how she reacted
"come here then...She doesnt know you want her to find someone else?
Anything but you? She doest know you want her to write?"
I pulled her ankle close to my mouth
and told her to shut the fuck up
"Why are your wrists bandaged?"
she asked over dinner
"Im not sure yet," I said
After we fucked, she told me about mexico
how she drove there with her boyfriend who was wanted by the police for murder
he was scared
they bought chicken claws and wore them around their knecks
driving in her beat up mercedes
she told me the chicken claws accidently got wet
from sweat while they fucked in the back seat of the mercedes
that the claws swelled up and started to smell, like dead flesh
swollen claws rehydrated
"Why do you have womens clothing in your closet."
"Im not sure."
"Is there anything you...ohhhh...ohhhh..ohhhh..."
I woke up and saw the reminents of life
she got him to talk about his father the night before
and if he was him, he thought...
I've lived 75% of my life already
"I will kill myself when my mother dies"
she says
An hour later alone
I'm on the computer
when the text comes
"xoxooxox hugs and kisses from the bright darkness, cassaro."
"how'd a beautiful thing like you get kicked around so much?" I wrote
:) Im tough, just writing papers all weekend. Can't wait till that's over. My week will be more lax. U gonna be around?"
"Im the morning light you know, I will be around."
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