Your desire shipwrecked like my bra

so flimsy it seemed to sing strangely.

There’s a chance I will miss hair, thighs, eyes, cumulus.

 

Open kiss surgery

has made me hunger for soap.

Politesse has quietly become anal.

Ten teeth, a body.

Come with, come by, come out.

Me my me so cold

your ashtrays

a knot of 800 butts

festered brotherhood.

 

If the 2nd is perfect

there’s a thousand to warn.

Do your cry

Hold in your

private mouth facts

blunt like the corsage church

run by a nymphomaniac

– a weight we don’t name.

 

Peekaboo, you pocket.

Sometimes I disappear like death

like an ‘O tonight’

like Oh, Wilhelm Reich.

Listen to the condom die

– binds of old must under slides.

Heard with a shudder

like a cemetery of the tapped.

 

Burn, puff, the terrible fantasy.

You in the world,

my shipwrecked human

mentioned, not shown.

 

I, drunkard blue

will last the night.

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