Wednesday, May 20, 2009

Letter To Penthouse

The half-finnished beer
Blossoms with green glass
Like the breath of someone
Leaning in to tell an obnoxious story
Just close enough to your neck
So that the more ardent syllables
Find purchase on a lonely skin
That only prison tatoos
Can know the meaning of

"I like warrior women,"
You point out, while we watch
Nouveau Riche Sci-Fi
On the piracy purple screen
Made up all of silhouettes and static

You said that aloud, asthough
I'll take my que from such a statement

As if the man's supposed to give a fuck

I can not consumate
Your subsonscious desire to be dominated
When you've made it clear to me you have a
I'm bored of this and of the rest

No matter where I hide
The Parkland or the Northern Lights
There is still coke in the bathrooms
Like neat piles of dry-wall slowly crumbling
And blocking up the shortwave
Nose to brain
Turning voices loud and obtrusive
Soundbites flooding in, over-capacity
The echoing drip from inner stalactites
The infection that lingers on my more private arm
The weather, coming in spells

I have had enough, and dramatically
Have torn the looseleaf free and begin:

"Dear Penthouse;
Two girls take me out to a secluded acreage..."
Leaving out the alpine smell
And the intoxicating sweat that a female delivers
Jumping on a trampoline, the way that nylon
Pulled taught
Is just like any other muscle of the body
The restless horses next door
And pitcher of spiked lemonade
The laundry left

3 A.M and Space

Obscenity is a pair of knees
Hitting the grass so hard that Chlorophyll
Spills like dental blood
And OH!
Oh, I’ve felt this way before
The nocturnal beasts bathe
In what we must have been
: alone and like a fever
Blanket. Not much about
Warmth no more
Rather about the weight
The feeling of half a human
No, a fraction of a being
On your chest

People strength
Soothes like nothing
You’ve felt before.


Come to have thought
It-- Daryl Hall
Has a fantastic voice

On that note, One (you) should consider the work Hall did in the seventies as something magnificent. His voice alone, as aforementioned, is unbelievable. War Babies (a classic), the Silver Album (b-side is amazing), Sacred Songs (see. Babs and Babs), and even Private Eyes. Pharmaceutically digress and crave just one more cigarette

We’re having fun now
Trust me,
Just come on in
For the sake of a poem
Or words on a page
Just hold my hand
Forget about hands
Having more fun
Than sex
Just think
If this wasn’t happening
Would you feel you exist?

We’ll try to be subtle
And use larger words
With less abstractions...

Whistling Dixie

(Long ago, when humans were new
To Earth’s expanse, one Leopard,
Bestowed with power, served
Accordingly as prophet and imposter

Let the Leopard of Honor speak
Loosely. But not too free for
Long spells of quiet know how to
Last and lean on their effects.

LoH: Who-Ha
           Kitchen’s in the bath-
           Room toilet in the sink

They say mallards pick partners
The same way people choose
To mate: lying down, for all
Time and monogamous.

LoH: Water’s on the stovetop
           Evaporating without heat

Basically, you have to bend
Backwards if you want to
Be seen. Tell that to your Honor.
Black spotted, four footed and neat.

LoH: Prince thought he’d
           Never be a humanist

After the drakes swam collectively
Away, the hens discussed politics.
Along the shore their children
Aspired to fly without wings.

LoH: He wasn’t until
           After Egypt

Lying abound the Leopard answered
The aristocratic birds with a riddle:
Being honorable, she ate the babies first,
Admitted boredom then fed on the men.

LoH: Who-Ha
           What will come
           to the artist
           in the