April 8, 2013

NaPoWriMo 2013 # 8

art by Jiří Kolář ©

pin-up, chin-up, what the silhouettes said

pictures, sticky shit
random number generation
I wanted to get back
as quick as I could
to write about the latest
seductress cup
I fed myself
a drunken night for

it was cold, still viscous
a residue, something else
I could start clinging to...
perhaps odd luck thrown
my way when
I rubbed against
a caught slug
squeezing me
at the wrong time
when puns were intended
bending tongues because
I never ended
my pleas for magic
in bare limbs...

spilling drinks, I think
I am gravity splashing
leaning back laughing
in a tropical locale, pang-ed
with sudden scampers
caught in her hypnosis
one eye then the other
I am wandering blind
opening wide
my nostrils disguised
as ears...
I hone into scent
giving up data storage
for knowing where
something is...

arched back sandals
roman leather
where are you
who are you
what …what…
come back please…
there goes my baby

I wake past noon
paste dry cotton instead
of swallow time
is on every clock
I realize
I am still dressed
been so, for
a few days now
I don’t mind
being stained
snare trailed
with food
and bodily fluids
these are
my little Picassos
on my clothes
crawling for a story
amid the rubble
of my lazy

I amble, a soft shoe
a halfhearted discern
to know what day it was
was it Monday
it always feels like Monday
in the morning
when you don’t remember
falling asleep, billy-clubbed
to a dancing siren fall

she is silk tendril music
stranding you past midnight
with all of your attention
calling in sick
going to work
seems the plans
of another day

a dark veil Pandora
and her blackened fertility
has got me pinned
has spread too fast
for me to stop
the slow bleed
of my will

Heaven knows
full coverage is
a velvet rope status
attained, only when
we drown somewhere
between thoughts thrown
and wishes grown

people stared
as they shrank inside
their body’s language
I must have smelled funny
when I ran with little money
for a newspaper, two coffees
an egg sandwich and a beer...
or maybe, I just looked like shit
or worse they knew
they too, had always wanted
their own maypole parade
glacially knifed to what
surrender means

but, as they look
they don't see
I am still
not ready
to share
that is
wrapped inside
this dream
I can’t quite



  1. very nicely written....I very much like the ending ~ this dream I can't quite remember.

  2. Every time I wander in your dreamland I can't help but dig deeper into your rabbit hole. Keep dreaming, keep writing, keep sharing. <3

  3. High praise, indeed, from a friend like you, Double N...honored and humbled am I, every time you stop by...gracias, amiga...