March 24, 2016

remember that time we drank mushroom tea and I turned cunnilingus into my own person Fellini movie

you cannot fit your entire head 
then body into my vagina Edward...

poem birthing yourself 
requires surrender, trust 
and a more skillful pick to lock...

you can crow here 
all you want 
once you have the key...


again I know nothing 
but what feels 
torn fabric 
clutched paper right 
but having no basis 
for comparison 
I am just going 
on hunches and gut 
and my diet is nothing 
to shout home about...

so I sing 
playfully ignore 
the real world around me 
watching to pretend 
the decay begins to bloom...

by the cemetery once 
I heard a melody

"...if I could have true
the sweet scent of you
on my chin, grinning 
lovingly sinning 
counting from seven
then yes my heaven 
you improve the view..."

but I am caught 
in the headlights 
stag to leap 
not quick enough 
road kill likelihood
a lately johnny 
the bee stings...

here I am 
warm mud by the fire 
patting over the trembling(s)...

my knees and palms 
are cut from crawling 
over your broken glass virtuosity 
time eats time then starts to eat again I see 
so I say to myself in childhood roam
stay inside all the sad parts of your poem 

you'll hear them:
we're bleeding 
you're bleeding
eventually one voice honed...

I'm bleeding 
I'mb leeding 
I'mble eding 
I'mblee ding 
I'mbleed ing 
I'mbleedi ng
I'mbleedin g 
I am bleeding you again... 


1 comment:

  1. How on earth could I forget THAT?!

    The word "Fellini" makes me think of falling into someone's belly button. :)

    "you can crow here
    all you want
    once you have the key"

    "but what feels
    torn fabric
    clutched paper right" ... This is like when people were always tearing their clothes in the Bible to express sorrow. But also, it's when you're just having just a great time at a dance party that you have to like rip open your shirt or something. Or maybe rip a girl's dress off.

    "but having no (as opposed to yes) basis
    for comparison"

    "and my diet is nothing" This is the best feeling in the world to me. Especially when you start to get lightheaded and dizzy. Pure bliss.

    "...if I could have true
    the sweet scent of you
    on my chin, grinning
    lovingly sinning
    counting from seven
    then yes my heaven
    you improve the view..." ... Ha ha ha. This makes me think of our friend Grace, who also goes by Heaven and Scarlet. Have you found her other blog yet? You will love it.

    "a lately johnny
    apple-seed-ing" ... I love what you did here with "Johnny Come Lately" and "Johnny Appleseed."

    "here I am
    warm mud by the fire
    patting over the trembling(s)" Ha ha ha. I'm not a child, Edward.

    That last stanza is crazy clever. I love the way the bleeding ties into the opening, like this is a metaphorical miscarriage, which makes it all so sad ... but let's just not. Stay in the sad parts of the poem. Let's find the happy parts instead.