Bi

If I Could Paint I’d Paint Like This
Lavender sunsets
painted straight across Scarlett
Rooftop park benches
Feeding pigeons Flinstone Vitamins and hoping they’ll get better
Trying to reach through panes and stitch the two worlds back together
To get a yellow sun 

A sharp Lavender Vanilla Yankee Candle Fabric Spray aroma is what remains of two massive gas giants
A black world under your good old yellow sun
Put down old yellow and pick up violet habits
Lavender sun beams
Stretched out to accept an offer of kindness or frightened reality
Winged castle rats and Vampires with cataracts
I hope this poem isn’t too much I really want people enough.
I don’t need people
Lavender sun beams still radiate back to you when you touch them
rippling in waves until they forget you were there
Hang your jacket on the reliable yellow sun in the sky and forget it’ll always be there
Lay on the green of Earth and pretend that color will always be here
Lay on the green Earth that will always be here and stare directly into
Deep lavender sunshine until the center is formed
White speckled after images follow you for days reminding you of shapes and sun’s you saw
Stare into the white specked center of the purple sun and feel like you’ll always be

Practice the promise of a purple sun
Forego the comfort of yellow beams and
Believe in the power of lavender stars.
Look up into the blue sky and see how the yellow bleeds into green, oozing where the sun and sky once met, paint that sun purple and feel the sky click, feel the green return to Earth where it ought, and feel the blues and indigos and violets and orchids and cerises and mulberries and heliotropes slide across each other into their new homes at the center of the horizon
Feel the green under you where it wasn’t but is and hope it’ll always be there.
Look up to the lavender
and remember why it came
the sons of Yellow and Green and Red

My girlfriend made fun of me for this when I wrote it about an AP Lit Saturday session leader, so she’s not my girlfriend anymore and I can’t put into words how badly I want to crash my car sometimes, but my old girlfriend didn’t know I got breakfast sandwiches and smoked a bowl with nick in the parking lot before we went in My name was Haylie that day and it was better 

Today is beautiful 

I wonder who convinced her to be 

it worked 

The convincing her 

She's always beautiful 

I wonder if she felt beautiful the day after 

The day after 

Whoever convinced her 

Thank you 

I wonder who made her think she needs to change 

I sit and wonder who did that 

Whoever convinced her to change is my mortal enemy and i shall seek revenge to all ends of time Unlimited in some place Beyond the peppered peaks Past midnight Pal

escape this wretched poem and slit your eyelids

 in one quick swipe she changed

And she stayed beautiful 

Even in change she is so beautiful 

Sweet Liberty. 

She left me reeling 

Like a train fallen from its track

With her Party in the Front

Business in the Back

HAIKU #3 ‘A Proper  Dialogue’

Ughk. Qwunkle Hunghtin

Maymaymaymaymaymaymay

Gafb Muk Dajdpeldav.

HAIKU #1 ‘A Pen Pal Reuinion’

Oh you fucking cunt 

Why I oughta’ slice you down 

Eviscerate you

HAIKU #2 ‘Love and... Other Troubles’

Piss and shit and queef

Abortion pedophilia 

Moist towelette oral

Light Bulb Song.

Off 

On, on 

Off 

Dimmmmmed

Seven minutes 

Off 

On himmmmm

In Heaven 

Dark Night 

Knife fight

Kite Flight

Knight life 

Show me 

                the sugar plum fairies’ Plight 

Ma and Dad had bad taste 

Mo bomb blonde pond God’s Gtes

Gote Gait 

         Goat Gate

Maximum security break out in hives

Whenever shills Cheech, Chong and Jive

Arrive         salutations from

on donkey back 

Mule front property

Palm’s a sweaty 

Pauper’s Pale Paums a Plenty 

Psalm’s avenge theeEEeĒ               Phyllummummmmmmmmmm

Ascending 

Poke prodding piercing pushpush past peeling 

Peace of mind away from every layer 

of thick- Slime 

Shift slow subtleties of great importance 

There’s something soft about that gaze 

as communication begins to occur in the upper thorax

That’s where the magic happens. 

Drug Facts 

      Of oozing-viscous Slime

Pepsi’s Bill Cosby is -yes, probably- Jeff Gordon

indie Carpool 

           Karaoke 

             Smokey and The Bandit’s still recording 

christ king snake

             Bowie equals Bill, not Flash and Fill 

             out this form before you get covered in 

thick-Oozing-Vicious Slime

underneath hard metallic crusts of 

rhubarb    pie 

Every      one takes a slice but no one will take a 

pICTURe 

Fades.

Dogon Daydream

Alan wrenches in his pockets
She’s got speed dial on her phone
Smokes too many wood tips and always
Greets me with salud 

But she loves the color blue 

God she wants his neighbor’s telly 

But he’ll settle for her tube.
They’re God when they’re entwined 

They are battered and despised 

An overgrown clitoris is really all it takes to seal your fate? How can the label of humanity be so fragile 

The poem for the pig who tried to hit me in his cruiser? 

When I journey prior to morning 

I pause at 7 crosswalks
The milk and chicken drivers join at 4th and 3rd 

They will let me pass but…. The paddy wagon shitfuck Van 

Glanced me fast and smashed their gas
What do you want to be when you grow up?
A philosopher king.
I cried for the forest 

Niger and Haiti what have we done?

I held back tears at work
                                ruling o’er the forest
I held tears back at work 

Walking home in the cold. Crying softly to A$AP ANT and holding a raccoon onesie I’m sure I can return for drug money. I am the pinnacle of evolution. God keeps casting himself aside and forgetting to slack the line. Did anyone fix the roads in Bangladesh?

https//Words.com/4Play//iTC.

It doesn’t make 

Women uncomfortable 

It doesn’t 

Believe in a god 

I’m not any

Different or out of It

I’m just walking with General Zod

Objectify yourself over and over again until you step out of your brain and see yourself as a wooden bowl. You hold water. You have grooves, bitch you have knots. The only thing that makes you not a wooden bowl is you don’t think you are, and that’s a baaaaaaaaaad argument daddio. I’ll cut a hole in you and you’ll leak.  I’ll slice you up like Matisse

and glue you on my wall so I can objectify you myself every day until the stencils fall off and the thumbtacks go back in our eyes. I’m sorry I need to to be me and there’s no one else for me to be if we both have to be free. 

That part sucks and I left it in cuz 

fuck you. Peach farm 

Car alarm 

All the livelong day 

Thyme ith of the ethanthe 

This life ith pay to play 

Pardonne Mon Français Je Suis

White-Trash American

Je suis le fucking petit tortoise
Roi pour rere
En esprit
Je suis très fatigué
La comète comestible
Piège dans les diamants
Noyé dans la décadence
Mon fucking avocat;
Je t’aime tellement
Absurdité;

Mon meilleur Ami