hard versus soft

nouns adjectives adverbs ganging up on me in a broken glass paris alley coming at me with rusty screwdrivers and mexican switchblades number two pencil shanks reminding me of my station anne sexton was a poet sylvia plath was a poet edna st. vincent millay was a poet and i am a failed porn star from texas with a too small rosebud mouth medium tits big puffy nipples frizzy hair shitty tattoos and a hankering for something wild with someone more brilliant than i could ever hope to be fuck you fucker kicking me in the cunt as you kiss me telling me things teaching me things bigger and older than the continent i came from america is for amateurs all american writers are trash except for holy anne sexton with her splintered oars a bitch gets weary rowing toward an approximation of god but this is something this is not nothing this fisher price intimacy three black pigs holding court on the windowsill the sun screaming into the sky before six you bringing me a bowl of granola with flaxseed almond milk raspberries telling me bitch i love you here's your tea here's ian drury for the playlist bitch i am going to pile drive you into the middle of next week write a book of poems about that

group text to my family

the blonde guy across the aisle swigging a budweiser is probably acceptable by most standards with his normal american job thousands in checking hundreds in savings average credit score brick house on a street with a poetic name such as sleepy daisy his wife a pinterest dream with her easter bunny cupcakes and live laugh love in a frame on a beige wall in the media room where all dallas cowboys fans are always welcome and jesus remains head motherfucker in charge while it's true we are both flying into heathrow we inhabit different galaxies i never voted for trump and i never was a genius at playing the status quo game showing up to baseball games so congenial and jcpenney's i could be a catalogue page 

by now i am quite sure the gossip is thicker than memorial day brisket and the condemnation aimed in my direction is more righteous than IT IS FINISHED on the cross that gets all the press how could you leave your son a month before high school graduation how could you leave the air-conditioned house in the gated subdivision stuffed with dishes towels furniture meat in the freezer guitar in the garage for a british guy you met on myspace in 2008 oh bless her heart there goes misti again running away from home with a million stars spinning in her eyes somehow protected by sexy crazy cool angels whose names no texan will ever be able to properly pronounce

i will send postcards from paris buzzing on stella or something similar the bees in my head dying one bitch slap at a time my heart a carousel seen in several movies because the predictable is so romantic and here more or less is my sentiment in smeared black ink: having a lovely wish you were yes of course it's love that dragged me out of bed across the atlantic to a small town in the uk no influencer would ever vlog i spend my days in bed stoned laughing thrumming with my co-conspirator in bliss we're like johnny and june without the clout and rhinestones and right now feels really fucking good but someday this will end when one of us dies because that is how it works no crocodile tears welcome you never really knew me
 

here we sing oblivion

 For Kitten. The book STUNT COCK is now officially full length.

 

slobbering that knob for peanut m&ms

 

 

leaving the pink guitar and orange amp and records behind in texas coming to him on a wing and a thousand prayers because it is my destiny to slobber that knob for peanut m&ms as foxes gobble flowers in mister macgregor's garden and clouds shaped like blood engorged penises wander horny over yeovil my titties pop out of my cheap pink slip and he threatens to pile drive me into oblivion trust me bitch life don't get no better than this

 

it's 11:11 somewhere

 

our mutual wish is that this will never end this touching this loving this kissing this sweet
language we share so babied so lullabied so deeply magical I wake up to find you gone
send you a text with a broken heart and one word (abandoned) you reply with a photograph
of tofu and vegetables curried in a wok and one word (cooking) and this is enough to carry us
through the catacombs of paris the postcard kiosks of london the littered beaches of mexico
because I was five and my grandmother was tickling my back reading fairy tales to me
and a seed was planted for one true king and no pretender and now in the year of the galloping
fire horse I have found him and so much more in you my goddamn beautiful aries stallion
so yes we will ride this bitch on out all the way to no grave our corpses burned to ash
scattered wherever doesn't matter because beyond the oven it's us liberated immeasurably
above it all ecstatic

when we roll it's rape, baby

I.

can't smell the prada for all the rape because it's sunday afternoon and dada knows best
but damn, baby, i adore our puerile eclectic aesthetic bone china teacups on the windowsill
werewolf from the uk raping squaw doll from new mexico and purple pieman holding
bob the alien from roswell in awkward forced embrace you in a no crying in baseball tshirt
me in a faux leopard hoodie and ripped camo leggings my hair a frizz of fuck ho
please rape me every morning for the rest of my first house virgo moon life
destiny the dirty slut demands this and nothing less

 

II.

everything is unbelievably good in the english countryside hood smoking our ganja in the loo
eating domino's in bed watching twin peaks because time has warped and i am 25
still in love with dali and henry miller and red dog beer the greatest hits of gary stewart
and you are 38 swigging vodka in sweden blasting busta rhymes mott the hoople fugazi
you got me with your poetry and beavis and butthead references and dick pics
and are keeping me with your hazel eyed gazes holding my hand as we walk across bricks to charity shops and the smoke shop with candy and naked chick lighters fucking me stoned fucking me drunk fucking me sober as the sun glazed window showing all those gossiping beech trees tells me this could be northern california or brooklyn or narnia the only essential fact is us incontrovertibly together solid as stonehenge
"let's get married in a cathedral," i suggest on saturday when a busker is in the courtyard singing shitty country songs and old women are blowing bubbles in front of st. john the baptist
"why?" is your question which is logical but you are in love with an irrational texan
who gets enthusiastic about candles and old records and children's books from the sixties

 

III.

if this were a cereal commercial honey would drip from every branch and frogs would sing rainbows
you are a beauty monster and i vow to fuck with you until stones scream we are all doomed
there is no hope no beauty left evacuate the shit ass premises because by then we will be higher
than this 3D bullshit well on our way to brighter prettier realms karmically immaculate as we are
in spirit form i will love you better than now if you can believe it
i believe it enough for the both of us, papi
so keep that slobber coming
and when i hand you an opal apple
always take a bite

fucking my high-yeller bitch

 

The Mutants of Yeovil

 

have come to you from the chilled hell of the doll house
everything perfectly stuck in place like a sitcom set
safe pastel colors the greatest hits of the beatles
celery and potatoes and oat milk in the fridge
pretzels and nutella in the disgustingly organized pantry
and my room the hermitage stuffed with books and me
geriatric at 53 i accepted this grave lack several bitter moons ago
this is it until i die shuffling tarot cards creating loops of noise
staying in a five star hotel once or twice a year
getting excited about ipas and appetizers
collecting vinyl art crystals lipstick books
napping because the dreams are the best part of my life

then i woke up came alive became ecstatic and spastic
in the delicious middle of this maelstrom of desire
a chaos of laughter and tears star splattered correspondence
aquarius woman over the fuck ass rainbow for an aries man
in the words of conway twitty i have never been this far before

you tell me the steps and without question i take them
cum for me check cum for me again check write a poem about us
check get a divorce check come to me in yeovil check

next thing a bitch knows she is shaken and stirred sitting with
her alpha daddy in an italian restaurant in quaint english town
sipping argentina wine watching the genetically fucked freaks
in ill-fitting charity shop garb walk through the door as if
they deserve the same joy we have claimed without shame
or reservation because saturn has favored us forever

it’s spring and i am feverish with this as trees spit blossoms
and seagulls appear in front of the grape tree where we buy
fruit jellies and various healthy things with paper money
featuring the queen and the king who is a scorpio but that is
not our problem and finally home which is mostly this bed
you placing gold stars on my left nipple
watching blood simple
our story without the guns and shitty music

Kitten on an aeroplane

Fuck me, I'm about to go to the bus station and catch a Berry's coach to London. Misti Velvet is about to get a ride to San Antonio airport & fly to Houston then on to Heathrow where I shall meet her tomorrow early & we'll spend a couple of days in a hotel before catching the same coach back here. (I'm leaving my toys at home, but I always have the belt if she's naughty.) 

She has waited a decade, I a lustrum. This is good, in fact it's very good. Big King Daddy Saturn, on behalf of Maa, has trained us & broken us to obedience, then rebuilt us, because that's what he does. 

 Not sure about this poem, but it made her all tingly, apparently, so that's good. After 66 and 53 years we shall finally find home. 

  

 

strip

for Kitten, who is flying from SAT tomorrow to live with me, yay!

 

 

 

 

i have always wanted your balls in my mouth but could not find the words

 

you crazy poet fuck going on about tamed possums and your volcel twitter crush
inviting me to visit you in sweden as a friend because you never know until a bitch
approaches you in an airport reeking of walmart body spray how it's going to go
goddamn baby i am dead and this is retard venus in aquarius heaven
last night i was sweating bullets singing you to sleep with amy winehouse karaoke
nothing quite reduces my ice queen corazon to a ridiculous puddle like your beautiful snore
then i wake up to you sharing your misti file with me sufficient evidence that we are both
insane in the membrane purple rain in our veins and we should have married each other
when i was twelve and you were twenty-five because who else could have taught me
how to squirt on myspace in ten minutes or less and assured me there is zero shame
in leaving a piss trail from bed to el bano

this is just to say my sweet big dick darling
i have always (always) wanted your mars in aquarius balls in my sun and venus in aquarius mouth
but my drawl is texan and my pedigree is cracker barrel and algebra eludes me
also...nietzsche which you tell me is not an acceptable left tit tattoo
but somewhere in the darkest dampest recesses of my bitch ass mercury in pisces brain
i always knew no one could delight me annoy me wound me heal me gold star me
daddy dom me intimidate me aggravate me thrill me like you

all these laughs words songs screwdrivers to the heart later
and i am very much that bitch
yours wholly
finally claimed
gold ring burning eternal 
on my finger
as i suck my thumb
and beg
for more
 

WET seX in weSseX

 

 

I.

 

we're ancient as fuck clinking chalices goblets steins whatever in asgard
we are well-regarded by odin dripping sweat blood tears cum all over that
hallowed rainbowed bridge of eternal return saturn teaches we learn and earn
gold stars across our charts from preschool to ascension
all we need now alive as we are is weed vodka water fresh air beast flesh
beast being us beast being all gonna crawl like robert plant toward dada
wearing cat ears and not much else so yeah baby baby be ready for that

 

II.

 

ate karma yes like porridge yes for a hundred or so years yes and this is my
shiny gold reward your piss all over my pale healthy tattoo free tits
i say lady of shalott you say charlotte i say charlotte's web
don't like spiders especially when they talk but i will spin miracle webs
out of words for you forever my co-conspirator in crimes against humanity
my fuck buddy to infinity and beyond the only story i care about is the one
we are writing syllable by syllable sigh by sigh
live by the sword die by the sword even if the sword is neon green and inflatable
purchased with skee-ball tickets because yo soy reina de american mall arcade

 

III.

 

oh for fuck's sake these grapes are consensual and glistening with rainwater
nevermind the gross old couple in the corner squirting and moaning from wessex
to guanajuato haven't you ever been mellow haven't you ever been happy
just to be raped like a catholic schoolgirl to your favorite jane's addiction song
if loving him is wrong in the words of the prettiest mandrell sister
and i paraphrase because i am too lazy to google right now
motherfucker you can take a right and drive your monster hello kitty truck
into the gulf of dystopia
who are you anyway
to be blunt you do not matter at all
because you are not me
and you are not him
and we are night swimming like michael stipe but with much more flavor
here's some piss cum to savor save it for later when the statue of liberty
is broken on some desolate beach and the monkeys are finally teaching scientists
how to fucking live
connect the dots like pee wee
word of the day is yes
second word of the day is please
one easy syllable each
easy enough
to decipher