Thursday, May 29, 2008

dog dick in your rope
won't send strands into fray.
a union of two ends in cuntsplice
these ends are bitter
these ends are bitter
these hands are better
tracing ribs and bulwark
shifting bulkheads, shifting
space filling voids
is this avarice?

Saturday, May 3, 2008

Zygote Submissions in the Back of a Rambler

You are singularly possessed 
of your la di da your
nocturnal submissions were all zygote 
milk and fromaggio jordache filling
my poindexter coin purse at the laundrette
isn't anymore french bread, either loaf
or toast.

But you stepped over obfuscated
minions, you nocturnal ambulator we 
said algorithm and binary nsaids
in the back of a rambler but
our musings were relevant to the 
google-eyed, smoothie-coiffed 
beancounter java zombies