Can't buy a post card at a bar

Christ,

he's been bombarded by three,

barraged by accusations of impropriety.

Nine days to

lay, find, sleep,

C

O

L

L

A

P

S

E ,

hunt for masked charms in all that dust.

august offers

"here, smell this..."

the heat rose up like a sugar fire

the heat came out and punched my rights

hairless and pink

soft, and juicy on the

inside

07.28.10

those shredders still haunt the air

dark, foreign,

near

a haunting deserving of bars and thorned black locks

skin, hair,

that dark corner under your bed

your bed

our bed

your bed

bed

sparked cardboard, my fingers

shred

early November '09.

back to when our dates were chaperoned and your hair waved long

over museum hand-held excuses, an ocean of bloody coral reef rippling, bubbling

between our new palms

under borrowed sheets, quietly testing their courage, circling

the swans you conquered that night by the bay

when i was less worried about old hearts,

better, then,

gentle, as how to best hold yours

07.12.2010.

cause games make us copy,

but this,

this,

this is all

us.

near bqe kitt.

Biting marijuana sweat off of Brooklyn boy pits,

Cat, I don't remember your name,

but I think your capable knee pads suit you fine.

"Bus Stop 3"

click.

click.

click.

click.

click.

click.

and she continued sitting on the ledge by the fence,

...

click.

unbending, click. click.

patient. click click click click.

pursing her bruised, click,

bloody, blue old lips.