Rip it out with sickness
Let that sucker keep on croaking
‘How’s the weather?’
‘Croak, croak, croak’
‘How’s your life?’
‘Croak, croak, croak’
‘Well, that’s good’
And without a voice box it’s easy to see
That you never had anything much to say anyway.
And you will also say ‘Fine, I didn’t care much for it’
In your head. Of course. Of course.
Croak Croak Croak
The scary thing about
when feet feel
when knees knock
when hands hold
when lips lock
is the fact that it happens all the time
it happens more than you think
it happens with more than just you
To think it means much
Just think how much
And then realisation will take hold
of your feet
of your knees
of your hands
and your lips
Thumbs bleeding and scarred
Feel those bumps
Wipe away that gunk
Then watch them bleed some more
For those coffee shop girls
For the ex who might as well be sitting over there
For a chance to eat bass and say it’s alright
So keep using those thumbs
And with those beaten thumbs just think
Of the stories you’ll tell your kids
Of those short-lived moments that are just that
Let your thumbs work raw
For do plasters have touch recognition?
I needed to sound impressive
So I made a lie.
I threw up on the street as it crawled out my mouth.
This version of me was really impressive,
I needed to show I was interested
So I made a lie
I sneezed and watched it sprawl out, wiggle, and twitch to its feet
Dripping but free, it was so completely interested, believe me
I needed to cover these stories
So I made lies to cover those other lies
I picked wax from my ears and so they were born
The two from each ear covered holes with their feet Continue reading
Here he is, the ideal man. Continue reading
Mmm, I love those vibrations.
Oh yes, I let them run all over my body.
It’s such a buzz to feel it on my throat.
I get high from down below.
You can even add a sound, it creates double the fun they say.
These good vibrations come from different places, different times, and different faces.
It’s not the content, but the sensation.
It’s not the context, but the gratification.
And when I see her there, those vibrations aren’t there.
So I just want to go home, to look forward to feeling more.
But they are no longer there.
I miss tripping over all those clothes piles
I miss untangled that mess of wires
I miss moving the plastic container boxes to get to my books
I miss holding my body against the door to keep it open
I miss climbing over a body to get to the shower
All that clutter, I miss it so.