back @ here

one time you told me about the bitter mouth airport pizza

and the phila people with cornrows

returning from somewhere tropical

i used to always bring my boom box in the bathroom

when i showered

one time i was going to make a movie

about a girl eating doughnuts with gloves on

she was going to lick her fingers

i used to have more scraps

wah-wah

 

 florescent magenta pale orange albino white

WILD IRIS WILD IRIS WILD IRIS WILD IRIS

 ARROGANCE MMMM YEAH NEVER CARRY

MORE THAN WHAT YOU NEED NEVER 

 BITE OF F MORE THAN YOU CAN REAL-

ISTICALLY CHEW NEVER ALWAYS YEAH

 intu-cation edu-ition intu-cation edu-ition

dusty dreamt

it's a little messy in here but it's mostly julie

dessin anime

VERY SOBERLY

but is there still mystery under my skin

...???

SESTININCE

the gold season, underwater light

slow moving underneath this spell

behind my head, some soft gun-

and how easily the pages fill

at night phantom flowers trumpet

asking how the moon slanted when i was born

and if the sun when i was born

was on the other side crying light

here: there wasn’t a trumpet

only a soft mama’s spell

the apartment’s constant hum and fill

and the big sister playing with a clear pink plastic water gun

while out there a big gun

was slung and its sound, air-born

from what they call the lower bottoms - down by the land-fill,

with its industrial yellow flood light,

out up and over a quiet spell

between the old ports’ horns and trumpet

midwifery instruments, one a tiny trumpet

for pulling liquid from my left lgun

“how do you intend to spell…?”

now that this critter is finally born

it seems so light

though i know she’ll fill and fill

and fill

her mewing mouth trumpet

till morning light

so soon that orb begun

to open its eye, timely and stubborn,

and look for a long slow spell

i repeatedly try to spell

out facts: there are anemic holes to fill

between that thing new born

and me here holding this trumpet

a backwards gun

too tinny and vessel-light

spell-trumpet

fill the gun

born slight

seltzer tearz

IT'S ITCHY TO BE GIRLY

i walked out of medieval times hungry as shit.
my horse had died and that turkey leg
wasn't so big after all i needed a dollar slice.

             (* * * * * YOUNG BABIES)










OVALUSSLY...

sweet/spicy

the most tangibly sad part about dying is that

i potentially won't be able to eat avocado toast anymore

my whole foods cashier just said "i feel sexy"

which was awesome

then i saw an actually sexy whole foods cashier

the lower fountain always has a higher stream

oops

k-8825a

Oops-All-Berries OOPS ALL BERRIES

♡♡♡

too bad simply timing is simply too bad
but spose that magic touch wun't sustain 
just wane and wane any wanes...




































hunty or somebody, 
tell me how them 
men from the 3 farthest
possible corners of 
a country could 
be so much the 
same same same

DRY AS FUCK

On a lake called Crane Lake

I fell in love with Grouper

Veins of glass and a nose of steal

The metal mouth chronicles continue

Through chronic issues

And boxes of tissues

My vessel has given me too much

1 phrase avec ^dont^

Speak (2004) 
After a blurred trauma over the summer, Melinda enters high school a selective mute. Struggling with school, friends, and family, she tells the dark tale of her experiences, and why she has chosen not to Speak. (2004)

FROG EYES

this school's a box
with the lid blown off

the trees are awake, empty
sky, a white soft sheet
the ground, confused,

offering up a last new flat
of lush

green buds
to crush
paper leaves

sifting light over my scoop feet
a pattern
to eat, 

or slide
beneath
like an earwig, flat

nuzzling my face
into black street

         * * * * *BABIES

ripe not quite

CLASSIC

Psychedelic distance closing soquick

In so deep

OUT SO SLOW
Underground the ice

I crave that
Shiny leather life
With velvet piping and no portrayal
Only odes
To now
To the ladder to the top
Let me be there underground in your loft

Turn my dreams to days

Freezin

The golden shift of the glow
On the wall of the bed
Gold cold fast
Early mornings
Bright beginnings
Break to dark afternoons
And eyeballs
Golden spots/squint your eyes/shut your lids
Gold skin gets thirsty and flakes
In leaves it falls
And oils drain
You mystery vessel
Your mouth wound so tight
Soft hands/wet eyes,
Sad girls and sad boys
Smell like sad
Stairs of wood
Empty vessels with nothing but potential energy
Write strictly in capitals and print solely in pink
Possess only empty vessels

Live slow and die whenever

doing good

I SAVED SO MANY BOYFRIENDS TODAY
PIC MESSAGED THEM TO MY EMAIL...

click to view the very first pet

* * * * *

STOAT

head hums

with warm
like a mill
grinding gold
seeds of wheat
through i sneak
teeth tugged
by tides
of tones
towards sinew
to sink into
and a pelt
to line my
brood’s bed:
my business.
no time
to hold
lost human-
babe souls
but of course
we have ceremonies
for death.

LULA BELL

our mother’s dog-stars
we snarl in the back seat
cat-girls who insist
on holding our hands up 

like paws in boxing gloves
there's a tiny satin bow at 

the peach-flesh neckline

of the leotard we fight over
you tell me it'll turn into a 

praying mantis when we swim.
in photos from that day

we wade in the green dust-milk lake

you in pink and me 

in bow-less black.

your grown leg is scarred

four deep red dog-tooth divots
and your forearm branded
with a black ink baskerville hound
black of black beauty
or the black shadow legs
you swear you saw hanging from the ceiling in our bedroom
or the sheen-dark hexagons round your eyes

that you pride in
sister lustily seeking seekers
soft animal scratching your head
-so full

VESSELS

what is this business?
it isn’t steel wool and cast iron
in a small sea of oily
silted froth, and heat

it isn’t magnetic fingers
through hair
or rich soil
or wood table with four legs

* * * * *