Category Archives: Everything and Nothing

Watermelon on the face in May

They figured out
All you gotta do
Is drone them
& they’ll come back
They’ll come back
They figured out
All you gotta do
Is bomb them
& they’ll fight back
They’ll fight back
Watermelon
On the face
Watermelon
On the face
In May
They figured out
All you gotta do
Is send them off
& let them back
Let them back
They figured out
All you gotta do
Is let them thru
& they may want
They may want
Watermelon
On the face
Watermelon
On the face
In May
They figured out


The inbetweens

Light a candle
Put a stop to them
Put a stop to them
Put a stop to them
I like to sit
Watching plants grow
From a window
Scrolling down
Down
Down
But it lags
It lags
It lags
It lags
& I know
Somewhere inbetween the I
And these requests you sit
Collecting
& I muse
Do you feel a pang rewarded
Like I do
Like I do
Do you
It’s sticky
Like a web
Like the cum
On your hands
Little humps
On the top of tinted SUV’s
Watching screens
Watching screens
Watching screens
It doesn’t matter
We’re the inbetweens
The inbetweens
The inbetweens


The miner

                                                      She was waiting
                                                by the open window
                                                  for the sun to set
                                                 smoking a cigarette
                     but it never did
                       that night


         The Velvet Underground spun around
         on the thrift store phonograph
                                  it sounded
                      almost like Aphex Twin

                    a full moon
                     or a straight line
                       insufflated off a mirror
had her hair all tangled
                                            tied back
                 like some sorta
                                    dying ritual


both of her hands &
        both of her eyes
     would alternate
                                       from screen to screen


was she a hunter—or a dopamine machine


who was she waiting for

                  in nothing but her striped stockings
                                             up to her thighs 
       a black choker with a ring on it &
       an indigo princess plug hidden

                                        by the faux tiffany lamp
                                   cross legged on the bed
                 in a small white room
             with a fat buddha tapestry
                                             twelve floors up
                                            with the window open


no encryption


 the screen turns off
  but the cam stays on



Zeno of Elea

The rains come
 It changes
It changes
The window
 It opens
It opens
Particles entangled
 Like lovers
Like lovers
Two times
 Is curving
Is curving
The rains come
 It changes
It changes
The window
 It opens
It opens
Particles entangled
 Like lovers
Like lovers
Two times
 Is curving
Is curving
You want back in
 But you gotta give
 It up to us
Up to us
You want back in
 But you gotta give
 It up to us
Up to us
The rains come
 It changes
It changes
The window
 It opens
It opens
Particles entangled
 Like lovers
Like lovers
Two times
 Is curving
Is curving



Lost girl

                                           A girl lost
                             in the back of the cab


 peel your lip back
  what’s it say


                             a pink tentacle
                            flops across the
                           suicide seats
      stained red
      with a slap


                                she closes her eyes
& touches her clit beneath her black 
dress
           to the rhythm of
              the window wipers steady
or a piano


                             they wanted three hundred
          now it’s six


                                   who was behind the wheel
                                  driving the lost girl
                                 to her destination
              deep inside 
this nothing nowhere
                        no one knows but her


I need a ride
she said Where to?
I don’t give a fuck


             her hooded eyes as blank as her face
                                           like a black cats or
                                                a new moon’s


it was Thursday
as we watched from afar
     the door open
             the door close
                        the black cab
          with the suicide seats
 stained red


                                        she touches her pink clit
    the tentacles coil
like condensation on a window
 like misterioso being beamed
  down by a vinyl crackling satellite 



The sound of ten toes cracking

With their tires moving thru the rain
I won’t be the one who says you can
You know that your knife’s getting weak
Boy getting weak in your hands
To Beercan island with those old tires moving thru the rain
Into the parking lots of unsuspecting condos

sometimes running on the pavement to the beach
Where shiny new shoes and hammerhead sharks on wheels
wouldn’t dare past a swoop
but we would with our barefeet moving through
the white sand beach between our toes in the night 
Where dreams should have been glowing
there were other ones between our lips
Like little blue stars of the oceans living swirl
in the dark waves lapped the shore of everything was
In the night with our toes moving through the wet sand
We called it Russia like when we were all
over each other by the bonfire it was snow
between the trees growing up from it like a warm forest
where we joined fueled by whatever stars we could fit
in our packs and find by the fire lit
that night glowing galactic & jealous
Living liquid like the ocean into both of you
lapped up the shore glowing
Let’s leave this world tonight
 That aint right
         Yes it is
         Yes it is
         Yes it is

 ‘Cause honestly
I’d rather just wear my blue hoodie
& my underwear I’d rather just
          yes the glowing world tonight
                  sitting there smoking a blunt
             & having an orgasm
                                                      I’m one of
                                           the last poets
                                                ever to live



Lavender

Who would have thought
the boys they gone out shooting
twilight
lilac
and foam burns
off crisp
Who could have known
the boys they gone out shooting
on windy days the black
oaks the madrones
the someday us too will be
vested in the field
in the wind
and in the thick of it
Who would have thought
the spiral sound
the ricochet
the boys they gone out
in the back forty nine
they gone down flat
vested with an arrow
with a flag pole
pink as a ponderosa
the clicking of beetles
the boys gone down flat
chested with an arrow
with a flag pole
pink as a pine needle
the clicking of beetles
Who shoulda told them boys
to wedge themselves tween
the axe and the cabin
the clicking of the beetles
gone down flat vested with an arrow
with a flag pole pink