her mascara streams down her face, like leaking octopus ink and I wonder what it tastes like
extinct, i won’t forget you
Dinosaur, I still miss you.
astronomy for the heart
I flicked something out from in between my teeth this morning and there it was; another thought, another piece of you
you don’t play with me anymore
Charlie was here
I liked to sit in the magnolia tree on the front lawn, surrounding myself with the contradiction of beauty and desolation.
I saw her in the sky; shaped like a cloud, she was laying on her back, without underpants, her legs spread wide open.
tell me something / I don’t know / is it better? / damn I miss you
the one thing called desire
This is like Magma.
pretending to be a dark shadow
She understands what the ink across his knuckles means.
Dalia the goddess
She giggles and squeals a little bit and then her pig shoes get lost underneath the dirty brown couch.
across your spine
the guts of this fish
I can’t clean up after myself
the trouble with touching
it needs eradicating
The stench of asshole permeates through these streets and it sticks to you and changes you.
run you little tornado run
breathing under the water of myself
I am watching you; wave.
no thumping / jumping / walloping / or whacking / against walls / and doorways / and down that shitty staircase / that he loved best
this gander muscle, all pumping and cracking
it reminds me
She’s a moth, that girl; with butterfly eyelashes and her wings made of difference.
more than once, your sonar
Parts of me remain: the acoustic of that time.
like a twig in the beak of a bird who should’ve k…
Let me feed you, the worms of everyone else’s disgust.
a bitter taste has crawled out of the garden and into her mouth
The tips of my shoes are like tigers / my brown rubber soles are the eyes
I sat on the edge of the world
breath for dandelion
this garden is a jungle
I could slam into you
There’s a lot of trust in the world.
the gills fill
Love me like sludge
Don’t do that to plants, it hurts them … leave them there and they’re happy.
the gyspy string in my puppet
Over the years, I found my own spirit and my own guides and although we’re a noisy and complicated bunch, we haven’t done too badly.
hairpins for hearts
I chopped my own toe off twenty-seven days ago.
Ray used pliers to remove fingernails.
Dad says it’s because of the drought. He said the earth is drying out and it needs a good drink.
the chaos of difference
These particles will divide.
Ant Nurse and The Peppercorn Tree
The peppercorn tree was bleeding again.
wimbledon in the western suburbs
I sat in the front seat, where your nose bleeds and I watched every game
my irregular tangle
the craft of containment versus freedom
putrid and magic
you were crazier than this town
The shoes still have the mud on them.
we are each a baroque burnout
too early for trains
she doesn’t catch my drift
gravity keeps me
I am this planet and he is the next.
he played an aching muse
little things with ripped up wings
when it falls
a great nebulous matter
pens for paddles
The daughter of Krakatoa
I wonder when she will spill her insides out into the surrounds of a peaceful place, just like Krakatoa.
There are words in his stomach.
I don’t know whether her tongue was removed from her mouth or if it was perhaps hiding lazily between her yellowing teeth.
thirteen divided by forty
I wanted to knock on the wooden box and make certain he was safely gone.
The ordinary beauty of a not so ordinary instrume…
I am sitting in the corner of an empty auditorium, hidden behind the heavy fall of a black stage curtain.
There was lipstick on the rear view mirror.
An ordinary skirt of cotton and yesterdays
I’ve been picking at my hemline.
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