a couple a summers ago,
a physic young crackhead sold me a throat,
"dark frog you!" she croak.
desolate corner.street. fishy swamp soap trickles ovary
the fresh powder.
teeth chatter
and sweat feetsoak. down feather dank overworld whirled a paper tornado
of brown skin
i am bleached. it burns to be clean
as my colorless larynx
disruptured when she sang the crack song.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
another Saturday's Child
whitey gets the chocolate mopped from his cheek by his mother's
milk cloth
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
open for attack
widespread sleep. horror of observation.
stabbing her good-eye.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
in the desert
a man named joe
snow
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
i am lesbian-man. love me.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
the muddy river
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
a corpse's open eyes
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
jaundiced
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------scaring the black magic children.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
river.
a canyon.
wood ash and bleach stones
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
mix a Mandarin-Italian mutt
whose umbilical chord pulses in the white snow
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
my shivers are your shadows
three degrees below
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
the point of human start sorrow
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------bone white as your snow
marrow
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
married to mine
in rich, cold blood-cell toffee.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
if you were to eat people,
who would you choose?
we took a portrait of the lamb before the sacrifice.
before the slaughter,
laughter
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
a violent circumcision
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
or he is unclean.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
and I always, unable to unclean
between 6 white walls
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
twenty gunshots on the prairie
polka-dot hat
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------no police. he asks the woman why her husband lets her out.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
dead skin makes sex funner.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
a gold locket holds his dried foreskin to her chest
moon
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