a liar

undulation told in the bathroom
a liar. house settles between
finished and tall, and tall and
unfinished. the first howlings
of the year. bathroom shudders
a drip tap told me. to fear is
a fiber thing. houses are really
large woodwind instruments we
chose to live in. unfinished shows
us this in gale force, a low calm
pitch, resonating a window. left
open. fear is a fiber thing. as is
the rolling bucket. the slow sliding
then the silence. a little gasp.
undulation told the curtains it
was a liar. closed the doors. made
a little room, of stillness. sat. drank.
washed it’s bleeding teeth.
folded dirty clothes. ate a cake of soap.
undulated. said i was a lair. unfinished
house next door sings like a flute
i wonder if it confuses the bats and their
precious
little
echos.
whether it sounds like their mother.
and they begin to roost in her chest chamber.

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a liar

Tourist

and that night, she grated her face upon a palm tree

cause mama pays special heed to splinters and spines

stumbles on a bus home

gets on for free, takes lots of pictures

imagines she could kill the world over, and over, and over, like turning

soil and replanting

and that night, she lied about everything

she imagines she could lie herself to a different place

stumbles back on pavement, wonders what a car feels like

if it could take her to space.

to ocean. and that night, she knows you are following her

and that night, she screams at traffic lights,

because she knows she’s gonna die

and that night, she just says hurry, hurry, hurry

get it over with, i’m tired of the slow creeping

just fucking split me open to bitumen, bleed me out,

try and love me with your choker hold,

try not to love me at all, try not love making corpses out of me

and that night, she watches boys in the distance

playing football under stage lights

remembers running for her life

being taught

to love, being hated

 

 

Tourist

Recollection (Gag-Reel)

the first real recollection/is in the bed

i don’t really remember back any further/your breath was like sour medicine

(except it wasn’t medicine)

the next taste, was vomit, my stomach bulged over the top of my trousers,

the second recollection/is setting the gin on the bedside table

…i don’t feel so good…

the third recollection/is the light and the questions/because

you can’t stop now

shaking my head and saying i’m fine

your brain was once really interesting to me/but everything (the whole world)became a little more/sad, when you said,

if your stomach is bothering you i’ll show you how to activate your gag reflex, once you vomit you’ll feel better,

once you vomit you can finish that drink

the fourth recollection/is the numbing fear, filling my chest, like drowning, like why would you say that

in the dark i found the ocean and tried to drown myself because you are the kind of people i fall in love with all the time   

Recollection (Gag-Reel)

sun god

its very hard to speak when?

your mouth is full of light

open wide and say

I CANT SEE ANYTHING BECAUSE THE LIGHT COMES FROM ME AND IT HURTS LIKE PULLING OUT SPLINTERS

the dentist laughs and puts that thing in your mouth that sucks (a black hole)

then he mumbles

you’ve some nasty green aurora stuck in your front teeth 

he scraps with the scraping thing

you have some solar flares growing on your gums, but some bonjela should fix that up in no time 

he pauses, his hands still

and looks your wisdom teeth are about ready to pull out

he laughs to himself

its finally happening

all of you struggles and shines but hands come in their thousands/hold your mouth open

nobody cares if they are blind///he reaches inside///angles the man-made for leverage///pulls and there is a pop pop pop///you turn to burning other and they scream///the dentist pulling away with the prize of man///then suddenly they all leave and with them the light from your eyes

the rest of your teeth are afraid; they burrow back into your skull till they pop out the other side, and shine shine shine out the back of your mind.

the darkness is brimming

the darkness is so total

YOU SPIN AND SPIN LIKE A LIGHTHOUSE, TO BREAK IT WIDE OPEN

(AKA, a star)

sun god

you only visit me in my dreams, where i can’t beat the daylights out of you

why is it that when
sun dips
into dark ponds
i let you back into my bed
with no recall
of the damage that
you caused
i don’t want to die young
i don’t want to die
sunless
in the dark
every night
you slowly remove my vertebrae
smiling
laughing
//i wake up paralyzed//

 

you only visit me in my dreams, where i can’t beat the daylights out of you

Line/Lone

the moment is unclear to all but the sand
upon which the line was drawn
the silver outline in/the dark
1am in the morning
the fans wurrr intensity towards it
beer feels like nothing at all but bitter
the dark heaves itself a little
places a plastic bag over your head and says
breathe

you breathe deep/and close your eyes
plastic hugs your face
tender
that’s when the dark disappears/and you see the wurrr wurrr/sand is disturbed flying
FROM UNDER YOUR SHIFTING LEGS
breathe
CLOSER
civilization holds your face
TENDER
breathe
the sand is numb/poison was always this easy
breathe
slowly choke yourself to death
THE DARK SLIDES INSIDE YOUR CHEST AND SAYS!
FLY
LIKE SON OF INVENTORS
LIKE SAND
LIKE DUST
LIKE LOST MOMENTS
the lines the lines the lines the lines the lines the lines the lines the lines the lines the lines the lines and the lone

Line/Lone

Downfall

i want to say that i’m sorry

but i’m not

i want to say i’m sorry

but i’m not

red red red

speak in a tongue of night, (this isn’t really speech or language, we are just playing pretend, as usual)

like for example; favourite book, favourite album, favourite poem/poet/book of poetry ever

sometimes, i would skip stones across the grey matter,

just to see what exactly, mattered (if at all)

but that was when i didn’t even have a chance

red red blue red red red red red white (actually it’s cream dumbass)

two nights spent in the dark.

i didn’t really know what happened till three weeks later

then i knew, i’ve been watching french lesbian flicks, they’re hilarious,

but i can’t help notice that

I HAVE THIS FRIEND

WHO CAN PREDICT THE

FUTURE IT’S VERY

UNNERVING SEE SHE

TELLS ME THINGS AND

I BRUSH THEM OFF

CASUALLY THEN THEY

TURN OUT TO BE TRUE

see she told me that, the only stories about queer women, are stories about, their downfall…

i didn’t want it to be true, but i think it might be, and now i wonder

if somebody gave us the desire, to fall, in love, and burn everything

to the ground

in the dark, you filled my body with fire, like a furnace, and i coughed up ash, and wreckage, but didn’t care for tragedy, so i lent my head out the window and said i will re-write this story,

but then you twisted my head, to face yours, and said

but this is what i want 

the red the red the red and all the blue you have to paint

Downfall